


Castle of Glass

by wintxersoldier



Category: The Witcher 3, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, More tags will be added later, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:30:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7796476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintxersoldier/pseuds/wintxersoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ciri has gotten herself in quite a mess with Wild Hunt on her tail. Geralt is on a quest to find her with one very unexpected twist: he doesn't do it on his own.<br/>Two witchers and hell of a lot of sorceresses are set on eradicating Wild Hunt and rescuing Ciri.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is my first ever published work. I've done writing before, but nothing extensive. I've had this idea boiling inside my head for a looong time now, so here I am. Please be kind to my amateur writing, I'm sensitive lol. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy this intro!

The heat was unbearable. Humid air burned the lungs and the sun ruthlessly overlooked the neverending savannah. Not a single cloud in sight, the shade scarce, water almost nonexistent. A figure walked across the scorched path, dragging a bag behind. Footsteps echoed on the dry, crackling grass. Covered completely in sweat drenched clothes, it marched relentlessly as nearby animals observed from the safe distance and somewhat comfortable shade.

_Just a little more. Just. A little more, goddammit._

The tedious walk stretched for what felt like ages. Yellow grass and blue sky everywhere, a tree here, a bush there. After some time of exhausting wondering in the same direction, something appeared in the distance.

_If I'm seeing things again, I'll be really fucking pissed._

Soldiering on, the elusive picture in the distance started to clear up. And it wasn't imaginary. A small settlement grew larger and larger, as did the trees surrounding a small body of water in the village. A rumble of voices could be heard even from notable distance. Finally the mysterious figure approached the village, drained of all will to live and thirsty as hell itself. But water was a secondary thing, business is business. The villagers recognized the person and their Elder came out of his significantly larger hut, displaying his status among the villagers. He met the person with a local greeting, expecting nothing in return. Strangers are known to be ignorant. Instead, he received the greeting back, as well as a bag that was promptly dropped in front of his feet.

"It's done. Your monster is dead and won't plague you anymore. That's it's head, as a proof. I don't suggest opening it in front of everyone."

"Thank you, kind stranger. Please, come inside. You have walked for very long."

The Elder went inside his hut, with the stranger following behind. The gathered crowd quickly dispersed as they went back to their daily routines, but still keeping an eye out for Elder's hut in case something exciting happened.

The hut interior was very nicely decorated, animal skins covering the ground, walls painted and neat wooden furniture filled the big space. Various plants and sculptures made it more alive and colorful, coming perfectly together.

 

"Take a seat. Your legs need rest.", the elder said, taking a seat across the stranger's.

A woman appeared out of nowhere, carrying a small plate and what seemed to be a cup. She placed it in front of the silent stranger as she gestured to their sweaty clothes. They only nodded and the woman proceeded to help them taking most of it off. The stranger thanked the woman in their native tongue as she smiled in response and nudged them to drink.

"We don't get many Northerners down here. My common-tongue might be a little rusty, I am sorry."

"It's fine, no need for apologies. I understand.", the stranger replied in between bites, trying to be civil, but hunger was stronger.

"I want to know how you did it. How did you kill the demon? Some of our best hunters died trying to find it. And you... You alone brought me it's head. And you survived the savannah! You _must_ tell me.", the Elder leaned forward as he spoke, trying to achieve eye-contact. After a few beats of silence, the stranger looked at him. Piercing green cat-like eyes stared back at the old man's weathered brown eyes. He felt unease come down his spine. Such eyes... The eyes he only ever saw in the beasts that prowl the dangerous savannah.

"I was trained to do this my entire life. Your hunters never stood a chance. But none will lose their lives in vain anymore.", the stranger replied calmly, spinning a, now empty, clay cup in their hand.

"Is North really that skilled in hunting demons? And do all of them have your eyes?", curiosity got the best of the old man. Strangers were scarce in these lands and he wanted to get as much as he could when the opportunity was given. A silent chuckle was sounded, but the Elder heard it loud and clear.

"No. The North is quite incapable of fighting anything actually. And no, not all have my eyes. Only a few do.", a short silence followed as the stranger ate their humble meal and the Elder pondered their words.

It wasn't much information, but he has lived long enough to know how to draw meaning from few short sentences. North is in a war again, that's no secret. They're always fighting over something. And as for the stranger, they're as uncommon in the North as they are here. He carefully observed the figure sitting opposite of him.

Shiny, tanned skin, slender body, hair long and as red as fire, scars roughly scattered along the exposed arms and shoulders. Two swords menacingly placed on the back. One silver, one steel. Beastly green eyes.

"Is there something else you wish to ask?", stranger spoke looking up, no emotion behind their eyes. Old man was taken by surprise, lost in his thought.

"I-yes. The demon. How did you find it? There are no tracks, our land is too dry."

"The smell."

A pause. Elder looked at them varily.

"Your demon smells bad. I followed the stench.", the stranger said as they got up to their feet, already tired of answering questions. The Elder slowly rose from his seat and the woman from before rushed in, carrying a bunch of supplies in her hands.

"Wait, stranger. You haven't told me your name."

"Tanja of Cidaris.", she replied curtly.

"Tanja of Cidaris. Take these supplies with you. You will need them to get back home. Also, here is your pay. I hope you find it appropriate for what you have done for us.", the elder spoke, placing a small pouch on top of the packed fresh clothes. Tanja reached and looked inside, a small grin finding its way on her face.

"It will do. Thank you."

"Hold", he spoke as she started to turn around from him, "there is more."

He shuffled back to one of the drawers and carefully pulled something out. Tanja waited patiently in place as he slowly approached her with the mysterious item clutched in his hands.

"Take this.", he said, taking her hand gently and placing the item in her palm, "It is an amulet of protection. This... This belonged to my oldest son. The demon you slayed took him away from me. And now, it belongs to you.", he spoke slowly and steady, every word filled with visible hurt.

"Not to be insensitive, but it hasn't done a very good job then.", she replied. The Elder looked at her, and then lowered his gaze, slightly nodding his head, "It would have, if he had worn it."

Old man put his hands away and moved outside. Tanja felt a sting in her chest as regret followed. She got dressed and followed him outside, taking the rest of the supplies on the table. He was talking to a young boy, barely 10 years old and gestured her to come.

"This is my eldest son's boy. He will help you with your things.", he said as the young boy ran off and reappeared with a horse. Tanja has seen its kind before, out there in the savannah. It had white and black stripes all over and was much faster than an ordinary horse.

"This is a zebra. One of our best. He will guide you home, but will not stray too far into the North. That is unknown territory to him, but do not worry. He will find his way back.", old man spoke as Tanja saddled the strange horse to her best abilities. Her own horse died of heat some time ago, so she had no choice but to either accept this mount or go on foot.

She thanked him once again and greeted him as the customs suggest, then set off as the villagers waved her goodbye, grateful for her deeds. It was a strange feeling, this gratitude. Being a witcher meant dealing with namecalling, looks filled with disdain and spitting as they passed by her, among other things. This was pleasantly different. Zerrikania was a land full of surprises, but perhaps it was time to head back. The extensive heat was starting to become too much for someone who's used on fresh mountain air of Kaer Morhen. Nostalgia pulled on her heart often, but gold was always a winner in that fight. There is no coin in the North, only war and despair. Rulers play a dirty game with their pawns and Tanja didn't want to somehow end up being involved into the entire charade. She kept her distance and did her job in places where witchers don't stray in. Zerrikania was a place to be, as witchers rarely head down there. The climate and lots of unknown parameters repulsed them. Not all of them are willing to wander into strange territory with unfamiliar beasts. It was too risky and dangerous for the few that are left living, but Tanja saw an opportunity in it. The beast were plenty and proved to be quite a challenge, giving there's next to nothing in Kaer Morhen's library about them. But she _revelled_ in it. The adrenaline rushing through her veins as a hideous monster lunged at her and her silver sword satisfyingly finding its spot in it's thick torso. That feeling is something she lived for. Many witchers don't enjoy monster hunting as it gets tedious and repetitive after a while, but the unknown kept her on her feet, a surprise always around the corner which made things pretty interesting.

Her mount was steady and the environment plain boring, allowing her peace to think about things. Night approached quickly and she managed to find some shelter. She was scribbling in her little journal near the fire as the flames flickered, noting down gruesome details about the monster she was previously hired to kill that day.

A wind blew out of nowhere and the flames rose up. _Something's going on_. Her amulet trembled slightly as a sign of magic nearby. Tanja sat up and observed the strange behaviour of the fire in front of her. The flames danced vigorously, as if they wanted to set something free. Suddenly, the fire burst high into the air, releasing a small paper before calming back down along with the wind. She caught the paper and observed. It was a letter, sent to her by a tracking spell. A very old elven spell, most of the sorcerers don't even bother learning it anymore. The writing was delicate and neat, only a few short sentences written in cursive. The smell was agonizingly familiar and downright unforgetful - lilac and gooseberries. Yennefer of Vengerberg.

 

_"Dearest Tanja,_

 

_it's been a very long time since we've last seen one another. It took me quite a bit to track you down. I need your help. It's about Ciri. Geralt is out to find her. Help him, she is in grave danger._

 

_Yennefer"_

 

She stared at the letter in her hands, slightly scrunching the thin paper. Ciri is in danger? Geralt is looking for her? What is going back there? Too many questions appeared in her head at once and there were no answers. She has to find Geralt and learn what's going on, knowing damn well Yennefer won't spill a thing when she finds her. Tanja lied back down and looked at the clear sky. The stars were exceptionally prominent in Zerrikanian savannas, unlike in the North, where numerous forest fires set by Radovid's soldiers and city lights diminished the beauty of the nightsky. As she admired the sight, she thought to herself how Zerrikania's beasts will just have to wait for a while. There are more pressing matters at hand.


	2. Inn at the Crossroads

Geralt found himself in quite a predicament. On his way from Vizima to meet with the Nilfgaardian connection regarding Ciri's whereabouts, he was ambushed by a bunch of ghouls who were feasting on dead soldiers near a village. Hideous creatures immediately lunged at Geralt's horse as he jumped down to face them with his silver sword. There were at least 20 of them by Geralt's quick evaluation and he had to be very quick on his feet as he was completely surrounded. _Should've just passed straight through them instead of jumping down, goddammit._ He was cutting them down one by one, mixing in Igni and Ard signs to keep them at bay. In the distance he could hear quickly approaching galloping, but couldn't afford to focus more intently on it with the crowd around him just waiting to jump his bones. Hissing and roaring filled the air as the ghouls circled around Geralt and jumped, hoping to finally take him down. There was still a good number of ghouls left when a figure jumped in, silver sword glinting in the sun before being tainted with black blood. Geralt was too focused on making sure none of these creatures manage to flank him to actually pay closer attention to the new addition to this little gathering. With stranger's help, Geralt quickly dispatched his batch of ghouls and turned around to see his help sink their sword into the remaining ghoul's body.

„Geralt, Geralt,“, a female voice spoke as she pulled her sword out and wiped it into nearby tall grass, „always saving your ass one way or another, aren't I?“

As the woman turned around, Geralt's jaw dropped. He's been a witness to many things in his long life and not a lot can surprise him anymore, but he was completely unprepared for this. He immediately dismissed the thought as ridiculous when it popped into his mind as he saw the red waves neatly tied back into a ponytail, thinking it's simply impossible that it _is_ her after all these years. Geralt almost dropped his sword as he stared at the slender young woman standing a few feet away from him. Familiar green eyes stared right back at him, but they were different. They were _wrong_.

„Tanja?“, he finally muttered in disbelief.

„Hello, Geralt. It's been a while.“, Tanja responded with a small smile.

Tanja knew what was coming. It was inevitable. She's been afraid of this encounter, but at the same time she wished for it to happen. She knew damn well Geralt is going to be _livid_ about the fact that she underwent Trial of Grasses after both him and Vesemir strictly refused to do it themselves and basically forbade her to further search for someone who's willing. It was the sole reason why she left Kaer Morhen in the first place all those years ago. Tanja's search for witchers and sorcerers who still knew the horrifically painful and difficult process of making new witchers was downright unfruitful. But after a long search, luck finally smiled upon her and she got what she wanted. It was an experience she will never forget, the pain caused by the toxic deconcotions is forever embedded into her memory. But she has no regrets. She braced herself for the backlash she's going to receive and squared her shoulders.

„What have you done?“, Geralt snapped, „What the fuck have you done to yourself?“

„Easy now.“

„We told you _why_ we don't this anymore and you still went and did it, despite all of the odds against you. You put your life at stake for what, better hearing and smell? Degrading insults? Or-„

„I'm not going to discuss this in the middle of a field surrounded by dead ghouls, Geralt“, Tanja quickly interrupted, „I'm here for a reason. Yennefer asked me to help you with Ciri. We should get to that until we reach an inn where I'll explain everything. Alright?“

Geralt gave her a hard look before releasing a huge breath of air. He wiped his sword and put it in its place on his back. One loud whistle and Roach's gallops could be heard instantly.

„We ride for the Inn at the Crossroads. Yen said to look for a man called Hendrik. He might know more about where Ciri is.“, he curtly said as he climbed his horse. Tanja said nothing, knowing well not to provoke him when he's angry. She hoped he'd understand once she finally has an opportunity to explain herself.

They rode in silence, passing next to various villages and burnt fields. Rabid dogs swarmed the dead battlefields and drowners occupied the riversides. Tanja and Geralt passed by all of it without stopping, Geralt leading the way. Sun was close to rising by the time they reached their destination. They left their horses near the inn and went inside. It wasn't too crowded, which suited them both. Geralt asked the innkeep about Hendrik after ordering drinks, but was interrupted when everyone started to scurry away after multiple galloping was heard outside.

„You gotta go! I'll open the back way for ye!“, the innkeep said fearfully. There was lots of commotion outside, but both Geralt and Tanja were unfazed.

„We haven't finished our drinks.“, Geralt responded. As soon as he did, a man dressed in a plain, black uniform barrelled in, yelling about vodka. A few men followed after him, taking their seats at the nearby table. Geralt and Tanja didn't bother turning around, but they knew trouble was brewing.

„Who's this 'un?“, one of the men asked.

„A brave warrior, looks like. Got two swords, see? And so does his wench.“, other man spoke.

„Oi! What's the point of havin' two swords? And what's she doin' with 'em?“, the first man yelled. Both witchers remained silent.

„You fuckin' deaf? Gonna say who you are, or do I need to loosen your tongue with me knife?“

Geralt and Tanja looked at one another in silent agreement. There was no civilized talking with this bunch. It's going to be a fight, one way or another. Geralt took the lead.

„Someone who'd prefer not to be bothered while they're having a drink.“, he replied with notable menace. These idiots clearly haven't encountered a witcher before, not to mention two, which was obvious from their lack of knowledge of what two swords even represent. Tanja took the last sip of her drink, audibly putting down the glass.

„Heh! Hear that? We've a distinguished couple in our midst!“

„Shine your boots, guv'nor?“, one in the back yelled.

„No. Wouldn't want the grime on your hands to rub off on them.“, Geralt replied. The innkeep slowly turned his head to look more closely at the brave man. It wasn't common to see someone talk back to these thugs.

„Bolo... Did you hear what I heard?“, the first man spoke as others rose from their seats. Geralt slowly straightened his back and both witchers turned around to face the thugs pestering them.

„Go away. Or we'll kill you.“, Geralt growled as Tanja unsheathed her sword. The thugs attacked, but met their end very quickly. One swift beheading here, one quick slash across the stomach there, soon enough all that was left was a gory mess for the frightened innkeep to clean. He kept going on and on about the fearsome baron that will raid the village for what the witchers have done to his men, but Geralt didn't care. He kept pressuring the innkeep about Hendrik until he finally caved in. He revealed Hendrik lives in the village called Heatherton, along with other information Geralt managed to get out of him. Meanwhile, Tanja made sure the pockets of the recently departed were picked clean. More voices could be heard outside.

„Looks like the party's still going.“, Tanja said as she got back up. They went outside and quickly dispatched the rest of baron's thugs. After last man's head rolled down the road, Geralt turned back to their horses.

„You sure you don't want to finish that drink?“, Tanja yelled after him, remembering well that she promised to explain herself earlier that day.

„No. We have to ride for Heatherton. You heard the innkeep, something's happened there.“, Geralt replied.

„Yeah, he mention some kind of glow coming from there. I honestly doubt it has something to do with Nilfgaardians.“

„Which is why we have to go there immediately.“

„You got any guesses? I still don't know what we're actually chasing or why Ciri's in danger. Yen was as descriptive as usual. She loves oversharing.“, Tanja said as she got up on her horse.

„Wild Hunt is after Ciri.“, Geralt replied quietly as he made sure his saddle is in place. Tanja's eyes widened.

„ _Wild Hunt_? What the fuck do they want from her?“

Geralt got on his horse and payed her a weary look, „She has Elder blood in her. Wild Hunt wants it. It's simple. And this man, Hendrik, possibly has the information on where she is, or at least where she's last seen. Let's move.“, with that said, his horse sped off with Tanja following behind.

It was eating her on the inside all this time, but she never thought Wild Hunt would be the reason of why Ciri is in such danger. The picture was suddenly a lot clearer. Yennefer reaching out to her made more sense than it did before. She knew it was bad, but no idea _how_ bad it actually is. Tanja never encountered Wild Hunt, all she knew about them was from what she read in the books which she considered borderline fiction. She tried to remember everything she read years ago as they rode for Heatherton. When they reached the top of a small hill, Geralt abruptly stopped, with Tanja next to him. They observed the village in the valley.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes. English isn't my native language, but I do try my best. Hopefully you managed to ignore the mistakes and enjoyed the chapter!


	3. Ladies of the Wood

Not a single animal could be heard or seen. The sun has risen and revealed the ice on the roofs of small houses. An ominous mist was clouding the inside of the village. All signs pointed to the worst case scenario. After conducting it's safe to proceed, they rode into the village. A pack of rabid dogs was lying on the frozen ground and attacked as soon as the witchers approached. They didn’t even break a sweat while putting them down. After things got quiet again, a man exited his house holding a torch in his hand, yelling at them to go away. Geralt used Axii on him in order for the frenzied man to calm down. He sat on a bench near a well and Geralt asked him about the man they’re looking for, Hendrik. He told Geralt how the Wild Hunt came out of nowhere, tortured and killed Hendrik, along with everyone else in the village. In the end, they set fire to some of the houses and left. As he was telling his horrific story to Geralt, Tanja scouted around the village. She peaked inside half burned houses and observed the frozen blood trails on the ground, but she heard every word as clear as day. Wild Hunt was ruthless and will stop at nothing in order to get to Ciri, which is why Geralt and she had to find her first.

Tanja followed the huge footprints into one of the houses and found a bloody mess on the ground. She wasn’t squeamish, but the sight was hard to look at.  Geralt came up behind her, confirming that’s Hendrik. The signs of torture were more than prominent on the poor man’s body.  Geralt squatted next to the corpse to take a closer look while Tanja inspected the house. While he found a mysterious key in Hendrik’s blood soaked boot, Tanja found an interesting opening in the floor. They went down the ladder and found themselves in Hendrik’s secret room.

It was small and dark, only one candle lit. Geralt read a poster of a missing woman that was hanging on a wooden post while Tanja took an interest in a candle on a wall. The handle was worn, as if someone touched it repeatedly. She grasped and pulled down. A click was heard and then doors opened a little in front of her.

“Well, well. What do you know.”, Tanja commented to herself.

“You still like pulling on things?”, Geralt added as he lit a nearby candle on a small table.

“Fuck you”, Tanja laughed and approached the opening, “Oh. It’s a ledger? Payment for a sack of grain… amount due for a charcoal shipment…”

“Looks like he was masquerading as a merchant.”

“Hold. There are notes among the entries. Clever little man.”, Tanja said as she pulled the large book out of a chest and put it on the table. They noticed the headings and each held information about Ciri’s recent whereabouts and actions.

“So, we have a witch in Midcopse and a crazy baron to visit. I wonder how Wild Hunt found out he’s tracking Ciri.”, Tanja thought out loud. Geralt closed the ledger and put it back in the chest.

“Don’t know, don’t wanna find out. Damn. This is getting more and more complicated.”, Geralt said rubbing his chin. He knew things are going to branch out into favour-for-a-favour quests, which requires time they don’t have at their hands.

“Never thought it was gonna be easy in the first place. We should split up. I’ll take the baron, you take the witch. You seem to have more luck with them.”

“So original.”, Geralt rolled his eyes as Tanja cracked a smile.

They went separate ways. Geralt followed the trail to the village of Midcopse to speak with a witch Ciri apparently got in a conflict with while Tanja headed to Crow’s Perch to speak to the self-appointed baron of Velen that housed Ciri for some time.

Tanja entered baron’s fortress through a sewer as the guards didn’t let anyone come inside. Phillip Strenger, or Bloody Baron, sicked his thugs at her immediately, but she fought all of them off. Not killing anyone, but crippling them enough so that they don’t continue fighting. After proving she’s not someone to mess with, the Baron took a good look at her and decided to indulge her request to talk to him. She revealed her identity and told him why she’s there.  The Baron was willing to cooperate to an extent. He told Tanja how Ciri found her way to his fortress, but refused to speak further. Instead, he offered to share more of the story if Tanja helps him with a problem of his own. There really wasn’t a choice. She had to agree to help the Baron find his missing wife and daughter. Tanja followed the leads and they took her to a pellar that gave Baron’s wife an amulet. In the end, Tanja found out Baron’s wife got whisked away into the Crookback Bog.

Geralt on the other hand, found out the witch he’s looking for lives outside the village. Coming to her house, he encountered a little crowd begging the witch to help them. After sending them off, she went inside and Geralt followed, but found nothing except for a portal. He found himself in unfamiliar place and came face-to-face with an old friend, Keira Metz. She told him she hadn’t even seen Ciri, but a secretive elven mage came to her and asked about Ciri. He left a location where to lead Ciri to and Geralt followed Keira to old elven ruins. In the ruins they encountered Wild Hunt and raced them to a number of portals before reaching what seemed to be mysterious elf’s study. The projection meant for Ciri told Geralt and Keira about witches of the Crookback Bog and warned to stay away from them.

After conducting their searches, the witchers met up in Midcopse. They informed one another about their findings and concluded the only way to go is the Crookback Bog. Ciri must’ve come from there and got in a conflict with the ominous witches called Ladies of the Wood. They found the Trail of Treats and followed it until they reached what looked like a little settlement. There were children playing outside and an old woman was looking after them. They questioned the old woman, but she wasn’t willing to help. Tanja managed to convince the kids to help them out and one child told them to speak to a godling in the swamp. After searching for the godling and helping him, he told them he saw Ciri and decided to help them with the old woman. In the end, it turned out the old woman has a connection with the Ladies and Geralt and Tanja got to speak to them through her.

“So, more favours to do before we find out anything. Somehow, I’m not even remotely surprised.”, Tanja complained as they walked through the swamp, trying to stay away from the water to not attract drowners.

“Let’s just get this done with quickly and we’ll be back on track. Unfortunately, we can’t avoid this if we wanna get to Ciri.”

“Did Keira tell you anything about these witches? They’re creepy even for me.”

“She said they gave her painful nightmares up until she faced them in her dream. Haven’t bothered her ever since. Apparently, they protect the people living here, but ask for something in return.”, Geralt explained while trudging through mud.

“Of course, nothing in the world is for free. I get a feeling I won’t like what they ask from the people.”, Tanja said with a low, sarcastic tone, mostly speaking to herself rather than Geralt. They continued in silence until they reached the village of Downwarren where they met with the ealdorman as the Ladies instructed them. He told them of an ancient evil lying underneath a hill called Whispering Hillock and pointed them in the direction they’re supposed to go, so they were set to purge whatever is cowering under the hill.

Upon reaching the aforementioned hill, the atmosphere changed drastically. It was dark and foggy, the grass has wilted a long time ago and only wolves could be heard in the distance. As they approached the big tree, a voice boomed from the ground.

“ _Begone, come no closer… I know whence you come…_ ”

“What the fuck was that…”, Tanja muttered.

“This is getting better and better.”, Geralt commented as they drew their swords.

“ _The powers that protect me… They sense whence you come…_ ”, the voice continued and a pack of wolves appeared out of nowhere attacking the witchers. These wolves were bigger and stronger than the usual ones, but still proved to be no match for Geralt and Tanja.

“The voice comes from within the tree”, Geralt said after all of the wolves were taken care of, “Let’s find the entrance.”

They circled around the hill and encountered a werewolf that was guarding an entrance to a cave under the tree. It was quickly dispatched, with the voice continuously telling them to leave. As they entered the dark cave, a loud thumping echoed against the walls, very similar to a human heartbeat. The mysterious evil entity blocked their passage so they had to swim around to finally see what they’re dealing with.

“ _Why have you come…? Why spill this blood…?_ ”, it slowly spoke, “ _Are you here to grant me death? Or is my freedom your wish?_ ”

“Geralt… what is this… thing…”, Tanja asked, staring at a deformed plant-like heart in front of her.

“We were attacked.”, Geralt said ignoring Tanja’s question.

“ _This is my prison… A fortress besieged… Murderers I await… And my forest protects me…_ ”

“What murderers?”, Tanja inquired.

“ _Murderous sisters… Killed my body… Now my soul they hunt… For I defy them._ ”

“Who are you?”, Geralt continued.

“ _I abandoned my Circle… Where I’d kept balance… The Crones killed me… And cursed my ghost…_ ”

“Never heard of a druids’ circle in Velen.”, said Geralt.

“ _I wonder eternally through a maze of boughs… Helplessly sliding o’er rustling leaves… The Crones are Velen’s curse… They hear all through severed ears… They weave hair and twist lives… They take their strength from a broth of human flesh…_ ”

“I knew it.”, Tanja muttered and Geralt only looked at her before continuing to question further.

“ _The Crones want this land. They’d rule the wood alone. I stood in their way… I had to die… I am bound here… In fetters of magic… I wander endlessly… A labyrinth of leaves…_ ”

“Get to the point, please.”, Tanja said.

“ _The children… I know all… I know what awaits them… Free me, please… I must help… The children have been taken… Free me, please… I can be a gale, a gallop unchained… I shall save them, only I can…_ ”

“Fine. We’ll help you.”

“What? Geralt…”

“Tanja, not now.”, Geralt’s hard look was enough for Tanja to understand there’s something more behind his words. The tree proceeded to list the number of things they have to collect in order to perform a ritual that will set the spirit free: black raven feather, spirit’s bones and a wild horse. They exited the cave through the previously closed passage.

“So, we’re tricking it?”, Tanja asked.

“We’re tricking it.”, Geralt replied and they started to gather what they had to.

The spirit was delighted upon their return. Tanja set everything ready for the ritual. All Geralt had to do was pierce its heart with the dagger the Crones gave them. The entity spoke the ritual words, ready to fully come back to life once again and rain vengeance upon the witches who wronged her. Instead, it wailed and died as Geralt professed his true intentions.

“Well, that wasn’t dramatic at all.”, Tanja commented with a pinch of satisfaction in her voice.

“We would probably have to deal with it later, so it’s better to just get rid of it now.”, Geralt shrugged and they met the ealdorman that was waiting for them in front of the cave’s entrance. Witchers informed him that the evil has been vanquished and will not trouble them anymore. Satisfied, the ealdorman gave them payment the Ladies always request: his ear. Tanja shook her head in disbelief. _People are so stupid these days_. They finally went back to the old lady in the swamp, but the playful noise of children was replaced with deafening silence. She was all alone. A fog surrounded them and loud whispers filled the empty air as three disgusting creatures wobbled towards Geralt and Tanja.

The Ladies of the Wood were anything but ladies. They were huge, wrapped in bloody rags with child’s limbs hanging out of them and barely walked. Their voices were piercing and evil, a true pain to listen to. Tanja felt bad for the woman who was in their servitude. The Ladies threatened the witchers as they proceeded to tell them what they were after: Ciri. Geralt grew visibly irritated as they continue to prattle on about helping Ciri and Tanja wanted nothing more but to end them right then and there. Only she managed to notice Geralt’s flinch when one of the Crones said they “cared” for Ciri like she was their daughter. It was subtle, but she knew him like a palm of her hand. Both of them knew that was a hideous lie as they tried their best to conceal their growing anger.

“You tried to kill her. Tried to butcher her like an animal and eat her. Can’t forgive you for that.”, Geralt growled as he stepped forward. He tried so hard not to pull his sword out and gut them where they stood. The Crones laughed in his face as they disappeared into the dense fog.

_Now you shall chase shadows and wander midst fog. Each time you see her, she will be a mirage. And if you find her - if- the girl will die…_

Their toxic words ringed in Geralt’s ears and his breathing grew quicker. His fists clenched in fury as their laughter echoed throughout the swamp. He _will_ make them pay. He _will_ come back for them.

Geralt turned around and met Tanja’s equally angry face, but her eyes were shadowed with worry. He passed by her without saying a single word and eyed a tree he was quickly approaching, pondering if he should punch it or not. He came to the conclusion that such action is below him as he is a grown man, not a child. He just continued down the Trail of Treats instead with Tanja quietly following behind him. They found their horses not far away from where they last left them and rode for Oxenfurt. Baron’s daughter lived there and he wanted her found in order to reveal more about Ciri’s stay in Crow’s Perch. It was late night when they arrived at Oxenfurt’s main gate and passed the inspection. They settled in the inn, sitting opposite one another in the corner.

They sat in silence, tired from their journey and still thinking about Crones’ words. Tanja didn’t wish for this conversation to be started in this sour mood, but she knew this was her possibly only opportunity. She sighed heavily, trying to find her words and felt Geralt’s yellow eyes on her. Tanja really wanted to catch him in a good mood. _This will have to do, I guess._

“You okay?”, Geralt asked. Tanja kept her eyes on her tankard for a moment before looking up.

“I had better days.”, she responded quietly. Geralt kept the eye contact and she knew he’s waiting for her to spill the beans.

“What’s that?”, a question came her way after a minute of silence. Geralt’s eyes shifted to the small amulet around her neck and she followed his eyes.

“Oh, it’s a protection amulet from Zerrikania. Got it as a gift for my work.”, Tanja explained.

“So you went to Zerrikania? Was that after or before the Trial?”, Geralt inquired. Tanja’s heart raced a little as she noticed that displeasing note in his voice. This was never going to be comfortable for her, she knew that, but she felt herself grow more anxious than she predicted. Ever since she met Geralt, she wanted him to be proud of her, to be proud of who she is and what she’s accomplished. Whenever he was disappointed in her, it ate at her heart and her confidence. Geralt was the only person in her life who she felt a familial bond with and the fear of ruining that chased her in her dreams often when she was younger. Tanja would do whatever was in her might to preserve that bond, but she thought she left that fear behind during her adolescence. Apparently, she was wrong. That familiar anxiety creeped back in as she looked into his expecting eyes and took a deep breath.

Its gonna be a long few hours for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came out longer than anticipated, but I didn't wanna break it into parts. Sorry for the delay, had final exams to study for! It's late and I haven't really checked for spelling mistakes, so please excuse me lol. I hope you enjoyed this long ass chapter :)


	4. Family Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: brief mention of rape at the beginning of the chapter.

Tanja sighed again. She couldn't find her words and it aggravated her. Geralt waited for her to finally start talking and she knew he wasn't as patient as he liked to think he is.

“You always knew I wasn’t going to listen to you and Vesemir. I’m not gonna apologize for what I’ve done because it was the only thing I had,” she started, “I was never destined to have a normal life, so please don’t try to sell me those stories. It was either being a witcher or a mercenary. Believe it or not, I’d rather take monsters over men. At least with them I know what I’m in for.”

Tanja took a sip of her drink before continuing.

“So, I wondered the land for a long time, trying to find a job that required my skills, but people would much rather see me in the kitchen than take me seriously. You have no idea how many times I’ve been ridiculed for saying I’m a monster hunter,” she laughed bitterly, ”Men wouldn’t quit their advances up until one of them lost a head for trying to rape me. After that, I just avoided the cities all together. Villagers were much more willing to pay me, even if they didn’t have much.”

Geralt listened intently to every word that came out of Tanja’s mouth. He saw how anxious she was by the way she held herself; tense shoulders, fidgeting fingers and nervous knees. His jaw clenched at the mental image of some bastards trying to lay their hands on Tanja. He considered her his daughter, just like Ciri, although he never treated them the same.  Geralt had a harsher approach with Tanja and pushed her beyond her limits, while Ciri was more sheltered.

“Anyway, monster hunting was not as easy as I thought it would be. I almost died in an encounter with a rabid werewolf. Hell, I would’ve been dead if a witcher hadn’t intervened. His name was Morgan, from Cat School. Funny enough, he was gonna kill me as well, but for some reason I yelled I’m related to you and he stepped back. I guess he didn’t want you going after him.” she said with a small side-smile. Geralt grinned ever so slightly, nodding to her to continue.

“He patched me up and I told him what I’m after. He offered to help me, but with a condition: he has to get a bigger cut out of the coins we earn together,” Tanja rolled her eyes, “I didn’t care, so I accepted. We worked together for around 2 years until we finally found this old sorcerer locked away in his derelict tower, somewhere down south. It took a lot of persuading to get him to do the Trial. Turns out, he used to oversee the Trials in the Griffon School.”

Silence stretched between the two witchers. Tanja’s mind went back to that day, the day she underwent the Trial of Grasses. Her shoulders shrank at the painful memory and she grasped the tankard in her hands. Geralt didn’t push her to continue, he knew it takes a long time for one to get rid of that feeling. However, he was curious to hear more about her adventures. He hasn’t seen Tanja in 8 years and he hadn’t realized how much he actually missed her. She was always so quiet and careful, but also fiery and outspoken. Tanja knew how far she can go and how to time her words so they achieve maximum effect. She was already so grown at the age of 13 when he first found her, while Ciri was the exact opposite and yet the two of them got along so well. Ciri loved pissing Geralt and Vesemir off, but wouldn’t dare to do the same to Tanja. On the other hand, Ciri was the one who pulled that wild side out of Tanja. They balanced each other out perfectly. Geralt would never forget how hard Ciri cried when Tanja left Kaer Morhen after fighting with Vesemir.

“So yeah, the Trial came and passed and I became a witcher. Morgan abandoned me almost immediately because he couldn’t exploit me anymore; I was his equal now. Not that it hurt my feelings or anything, we never got along so well. But I digress, after all that went down I went back to the cities-“

“Wait,” Geralt interrupted, “Are you telling me your Trial went completely fine despite…?”

“My magic? Yes, it did. The fact that I possessed magic was the main reason it took me so long to persuade the sorcerer into doing the Trial. But I came out okay. Well, except for my eyes, they remained green despite the mutagens. Everything else is the same. And I still have my magic, but you know that I don’t have a tendency to use it.” Tanja answered. Geralt’s eyes narrowed as he examined her eyes. He noticed the color remained that bright green that when he first saw her a few days ago, but said nothing. Regardless of the beautiful hue of her irises, the ominous black slits prominently stood out and he just couldn’t get used to it.

It wasn’t common for people with the gift of magic to become witchers. In fact, it was extremely rare. The Trial itself was already lethal enough for ordinary men, but adding more to the spectrum made things even more dangerous. It was an unexplored territory and many thought it’s better for it to stay that way. Especially in times like these when magic was a taboo and anyone tied to it became a target.

Geralt remembered how excited Yennefer were when Tanja displayed first signs of magic. But much to her disappointment, Tanja didn’t want to be educated in the magical arts. Yennefer persisted nonetheless, saying she should at least know how to control her powers which Tanja accepted. Geralt always found it a bit strange how Tanja distanced herself from anything magic related. He never got her to confess why that’s the case, but he suspected it had something to do with her family. He chose to leave the matter behind and hoped she’d open up eventually.

“Like I was saying, I went back to the cities and noticed quite a change in people’s behavior. Soon enough, they accepted the fact that I am indeed a woman and a witcher at the same time. But the pay was shit and I worked my ass off only to get a couple of coins for my effort. One day I just got on my horse and went south. To Zerrikania. I even went to Ofier when opportunity presented itself. Since then, I rarely ventured back north.” Tanja said with a small sigh.

“Did you ever plan on going back to Kaer Morhen?” Geralt asked after a few beats of silence. Tanja took a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Eventually, yes. I planned it so many times and then I’d back up like a complete coward. I wasn’t ready to face the disappointment in yours and Vesemir’s eyes.” she replied quietly, averting her gaze. Tanja wasn’t proud of it and she didn’t like saying it out loud, but she knew she had to tell Geralt the absolute truth.

“Geralt… I know why you never wanted this for me. I get it, I wouldn’t want it on someone either. But it really was the _only_ option I had. I’m not a fucking housewife. You trained me to fight monsters, so I went and did it. I hope you’ll manage to find some understanding for me after I told you all this.” Tanja concluded with a serious tone. She looked at him and hope was evident in her eyes.

“I understand. I guess I am partially guilty. I did train you after all.” Geralt spoke calmly. Tanja’s shoulders visibly relaxed at his words.

“I don’t think Vesemir’s gonna be this easy on you, though.” he added and she smiled. Tanja was aware she didn’t end things on a good note with the old man, but she also knew he doesn’t hold grudges that long. She breathed much easier now that she got this load off of her shoulders and leaned into her chair. Looking through the window, she noticed the sky started to lighten up.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it. In the meantime, let’s focus on Baron’s daughter. After we’re done with her, we can finally learn what went on with Ciri.”

“Wouldn’t count on it. There’s probably much more coming after that. It always does.” Geralt said shaking his head. He’s done this way too many times and knows if things can get complicated, they absolutely will.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Before we met up in Midcopse, I went out to find a fisherman who helped baron’s family escape and he said the wife had glowing burn marks on her hands. That woman in the bog that serves the Crones, she had such burns. Do you think that’s who we’re looking for?” Tanja questioned looking at Geralt quizzically.

“Could be. But then again, the Crones have many servants. We won’t know before we question Tamara.” he answered and Tanja agreed. It wasn’t time to jump to conclusions. They sat in the tavern for some time, waiting for the sun to rise. As soon as they deemed it was proper enough for home visits, they left.

It was early morning, but Oxenfurt’s market was already busy. Merchants screamed in their ears as they passed by their stands. It was pretty easy to notice how many guards were stationed around the city; they were literally on every corner. It was even worse during the day.

“I guess Radovid’s not taking any risks.” Tanja quietly commented.

“Paranoia’s getting the best of him.” Geralt said while eyeing the group of guards coming their way. Surprisingly, they weren’t stopped. Redanians were known to be fond of bullying random citizens, especially when they dared to look at the guards. Witchers continued to the docks and knocked on a door of the house they were looking for.

A man opened the door and payed them a questionable look. There was nothing special about him, but Tanja noticed some similar features she saw in the fisherman that told her to visit his brother in Oxenfurt.

“We’re looking for Tamara, the Bloody Baron’s daughter. Your brother said we’d find her here.” Tanja spoke loud and clear.

“Voytek sent you, miss?”

“How else would we know she was here?” Geralt jumped in impatiently.

“Wait a moment. I’ll fetch her straight away.” the man said, obviously holding back a mean remark and disappeared upstairs. A cat sat on the table and Tanja approached, slowly petting it. Geralt shook his head as the cat started purring. Tanja always had a way with animals. She was gentle and attentive. He found that quite endearing about her, but never said it out loud.

“You’re looking for me. And who might you be? My father sent you?” a young woman spoke behind them and it was impossible to miss the defensive tone in her voice. The witchers turned to meet her and found themselves looking at a petite woman with short brown hair, donning a simple armor.

“Yeah, to see if you’re still alive and well. I’m Geralt of Rivia, this is Tanja of Cidaris.”

“I’m quite alive and extraordinarily well, Geralt of Rivia. Better than I’ve ever been in this rotten life of mine. And now that you’ve seen me, I bid you both farewell.” Tamara said pointing at the door.

“Hold on just a sec-“

“We’ve nothing more to talk about.” Tamara interrupted Tanja, which the female witcher didn’t appreciate.

“Got every right to be angry at your father, but he’s worried about you.” Geralt said after signaling Tanja to simmer down. He was surprised to see how impatient Tanja has grown over the years.

“I have a right? Thank you kindly,” Tamara scoffed sarcastically, “So good to have the approval of his hired thugs! And my father worries only about what to get soused on next.”

“He’s no saint, that’s clear. But he’s got the whole province on its feet, looking for you,” Geralt persisted, not because he cared about the relationship between Tamara and the Baron, but because it would lead him to the information he needs, “Finding you and your mother – seems to me there’s nothing more important to him now.”

“Shame he never showed such concern before. Especially for my mother.”

“He made a mistake and he knows that. We’re not defending him by any means, he’s done some shitty things. But maybe he’s come to realize what he’s done and what you mean to him.” Tanja continued instead of Geralt.

“Oh wonderful, I’ll bear that in mind. Did you really come all this way just to tell me _that_?”

Geralt looked at Tanja before proceeding to ask Tamara about her side of the story. After telling them what happened, Tanja realized her suspicions were correct: the woman in the swamp is Baron’s wife, Anna. Tamara revealed to them that she’s contacted Redanian witch hunters who have agreed to help her retrieve her mother from the bog. Just as she mentioned them, a witch hunter entered the house.

“Well, well… two witchers. A rare sight. Never thought the baron would stoop to hiring a monster slayer, not to mention a pair of ‘em. Though I hear you’re good at tracking things down.” a witcher hunter spoke condescendingly.

“Glad you know who we are. Haven’t introduced yourself, though.” Geralt said turning around. He wasn’t a fan of witch hunters and their ruthless ways.

“Graden, witch hunter in the service of His Royal Majesty Radovid of Redania. I’m certain you’ve heard of us.”

“We’re delighted.” Tanja responded sarcastically.

“If the Bloody Baron sent you to fetch his daughter, you’d best face it – you will fail in your task.”

“Men like you have told me before I won’t succeed in achieving something. I made them eat their own words,” Tanja replied with growing ire, “As for Tamara, she’s more than capable of making her own decisions.”

The witch hunter backed up at Tanja’s words. He certainly didn’t expect such a comeback and was left speechless for a moment before collecting his cool again. He knew witchers aren’t to be trifled with, which was proven to him once again just a second ago, so he decided to take a different approach. A few more words were exchanged and Tamara thanked the witchers for not forcing her to go back to her father before leaving with Graden.

“Great. So now what?” Tanja said as she stepped through the door, Geralt following behind.

“We go back to the baron. We’ve done what we could,” Geralt replied and leaned on a stone wall next to Tanja, “You sure didn’t let him have his way back in there.”

“I’ve never been fond of men underestimating me and thinking they’re above me. Had I not put him in his place, he’d continue to be disrespectful. I’m too tired to put up with that shit.”

Geralt slightly chuckled at her words and patted her on the shoulder. Tanja sighed heavily before they found their horses again and rode for Crow’s Perch. _Surely the baron will be delighted when he sees us without his wife and daughter_ , a bitter thought ran through her mind. She hoped the information they have will suffice and they’ll finally learn more about Ciri.


	5. Back in the Bog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for such a long delay, writer's block hit me hard plus I had zero time to actually write something.  
> This focused more on a sidequest than I wanted it to, but it's kind of a filler chapter anyways. More exciting things are to come :)  
> My goal is to show the relationship between Geralt and Tanja, which is why I'm focusing on the entire main story as to present it better. Just wanted to note that quickly!

Tanja and Geralt arrived at Crow's Perch within the same day. The sun was setting as the witchers walked towards Baron's fortress. Tanja was still worried their information wouldn't please the baron, but Geralt didn't share her feelings. Baron's guards allowed them to go inside and they went to his office. Baron was smoking a pipe next to the fire place when two figures walked in.

“Tanja, you’re back!” Baron exclaimed, “And you must be Geralt of Rivia.”

“Don’t recall meeting.” Geralt said.

“Ciri told me about you, I recognized your mug immediately. You got any news?” Baron asked with hope in his voice.

“Your daughter is in Oxenfurt.” Tanja answered, arms crossed on her chest.

“What the blazes?! She all right? In good health? Safe? Why haven’t you brought her back?!” Baron’s voice bounced against the walls.

“Never offered to do that.” Geralt simply replied and Baron winced. He didn’t expect to be met with such apathetic tone.

“How do you know she’s safe? You see her at least?”

“Yes, we talked to the man who helped her escape and followed the lead to Oxenfurt. She’s safe and sound, and she doesn’t plan on coming back or seeing you, at that matter.” Tanja answered again.

“Very well,” Baron sighed defeated, “you were to find them both. What of Anna? Learned anything?”

“We’ll talk about her after you tell us about Ciri, just like it was agreed upon.” Geralt pressed.

Baron started to tell the rest of the story about Ciri’s stay in Crow’s Perch. Tanja stood next to the fireplace and stared at the flames while Geralt followed the Baron and sat on a stool opposite of him. Both witchers listened carefully to Baron’s words as he described the events that went down. Tanja couldn’t help but crack a smile as she listened about Ciri’s bravery, or rather her stupidity. Using her powers like that was reckless, though noble. It’s a huge risk, but Tanja didn’t expect anything else from her and neither did Geralt.

“There, held up to my end of the bargain. Now, what of my wife, Anna?” Baron asked after concluding the story. Geralt and Tanja gave each other a knowing look. She nodded as a sign for Geralt to take the lead. It was often the case with two of them as Geralt had more experience and Tanja honestly had no desire to converse with people most of the time. If someone can do the talking instead of her, she’d gladly give up the role to them.

“Your wife is in the Crookback Bog. Got a place to stay and work to do.”

“Ploughing hell, you were to bring her back, not report on the conditions she lives under!” Baron yelled in frustration. Tanja averted her gaze from the fire to look at slightly bewildered man who was in fact yelling at _her_.

“We were supposed to find her and we did. That was the deal, nothing more.” Geralt growled as he stepped in front of the Baron, blocking Tanja’s view.

“You think me rotten to the core, a base bastard, don’t you?” asked the Baron after a heavy sigh, “You believe I alone am at fault for what happened here.”

“Doesn’t matter what we believe.”

“Yet looking at you both I see contempt. Can’t speak for the world you witchers inhabit, but in ours, nothing is black and white.” Baron’s voice dripped with bitterness.

“I know you’re gonna say you’re not the only culprit in this story, so might as well hear your side.” Tanja finally spoke up.

Baron was taken back by her words, but collected himself and told his side of this complicated story. Although Geralt said nothing, he wasn’t very appreciative of Tanja’s gesture. They listened in silence as Baron went on about his broken marriage. Tanja figured it’s better they have a wider picture in case they ever cross Strenger again, otherwise she wouldn’t have cared. It might have been a waste of time, but better to be safe than sorry. Afterwards, Geralt explained how Anna ended up in the swamp serving the Crones. The baron was livid; he couldn’t fathom the thought of his wife seeking the help of witches in order to get away from him. Tanja almost felt bad. In the end, Strenger asked them to help him retrieve his wife from the Crones. Geralt has had it up to this point and almost refused. However, his mind was still plagued by witches’ toxic words and agreed, seeing it as an opportunity to end them for what they’ve done. Tanja didn’t protest, sharing Geralt’s vengeful intentions.

Suddenly, the door of the office slammed opened and a little babbling creature busted inside, running around frantically. The witchers shared a quizzical look before baron’s sergeant ran inside, grabbing the ugly creature and dragging it outside.

“What the hell was that?” Tanja voiced her thoughts.

“You tell me. Man or monster? My men call him Uma and say he’s a beast, but he seems a man to me, just hideous as Ardal’s shit.” Baron answered.

“Doesn’t look like a monster, but my medallion’s trembling. Strange,” Geralt stated, “Where’d you find him?”

“Funny story, actually. I won him in a game of cards.”

“Funny story? How so?” Geralt raised a brow.

“Went to Novigrad once, to rest, indulge in the city’s pleasures,” Baron started, “Stayed at a tavern, and some folk there were playin’, so I joined in. One fellow, a merchant, wasn’t havin’ a good day at all. He’d gambled everything he’d brought from Skellige. Wanted terribly to play another hand, so I agreed. He showed me this sideshow as his wager. Not much in it for me, but fuck it, I thought. Luck was _not_ with him and Uma wound up here. End of story.”

“Still waiting for the punchline.” Tanja commented sarcastically.

“He seems more beast than a man, but there’s wisdom in the bastard’s eyes,” Baron ignored Tanja’s comment and continued, “Or maybe I’m imagining it. Ever run into anything like him?”

“No, but he doesn’t look dangerous.” Geralt replied. Baron agreed and Geralt announced it’s time to depart. Strenger gathered his men and all of them went to the infamous swamp.

In Downwarren, the group found villagers mourning and corpses hanged from the trees. After doing some investigating, they were informed witch hunters had visited and left their obvious mark. Baron couldn’t understand why they would be here and bother the villagers. The ealdorman told them there was a woman with them, asking after her mother, and Strenger immediately ordered for move out. Leaving their horses behind, they walked to their destination with witchers in the front. Many drowners and water hags attacked them on their way, but were quickly cut down. Rain poured out of the sky and fog spread across the ground. It seemed as if the nature was against them and both witchers knew that certainly isn’t a coincidence.

Screaming and growling could be heard from the little clearing where Anna’s supposed to be and the group ran towards it. There they met the witch hunters who were swarmed by drowners. Together they dispatched all of the monsters.

“Witchers! Change your minds? How much did my father pay you?” Tamara voice rang accusingly.

“Why are you afraid? Your company doesn’t make you feel safe enough?” Tanja bit back.

“I have no fear, for the Eternal Fire protects me.” Tamara grimaced and earned an eye roll from Geralt as well as Tanja’s annoyed groan.

“Tamara, dear daughter! You return after all!” Baron exclaimed approaching them.

“Stay away from me. Unlike you, I’ll not see her rot in this swamp.” Tamara didn’t hold back.

“Why the hell do you think I’m here? To take her home!” Baron explained, hurt by Tamara’s words.

“Oh, you’ll do no such thing. You’ll not lay a finger on her. _Never_. I’ll not let you.”

Geralt pulled Tanja away from them, they were involved enough already and didn’t need to interfere more.

“But I’ve changed! Ask anyone! Tanja, Geralt, come tell her!” Baron yelled after them.

“I’m growing real tired of this, Geralt.” Tanja ignored the Baron. Another voice spoke up and it turned out to be the witch hunter from Oxenfurt, Graden. Tanja’s stomach turned as he spoke a line from a prayer. Baron wasn’t pleased to hear Tamara has allied with witch hunters and she didn’t give a single damn about his opinion nor him, clearly stating it. Graden approached the witchers that stood aside.

“We’ve a matter to resolve here. Witchers, will you help us?” Graden spoke.

“Wouldn’t be here if we weren’t willing.” Geralt replied matter-of-factly.

“Enough chit-chat. Crones could return any minute now. And before _you_ get to say anything smart,” Tanja looked at Tamara, “I know they’re not here yet because we’re still breathing.”

Tamara scoffed in return and Graden ordered his men to search the village. They scattered around with swords in their hands, ready to attack. After a few minutes one of the men called out and Tamara ran in the direction of the biggest house. Strenger stood outside defeated while witchers observed the area. The rain became heavier as did the fog. The swamp was silent, both understanding the meaning behind the ominous signs. Anna was found inside the house, mumbling nonsense to herself. Tamara asked the witchers what happened to her mother, but none of them answered her. A loud roar came from the swamp and everyone jumped.

“A fiend,” Tanja said to Geralt, “Everyone, prepare yourselves!”

First came the drowners, hissing and biting at everything they could reach. The air was filled with Crones’ words that tried to seed fear into men’s bones. Tanja scorched every creature she came in contact with, saving a few lives in the process and Geralt’s sword slashed through every drowner in his way.

The beast jumped out of the swamp, massive in scale and armed with large claws and antlers. The ground trembled underneath it as it swiped at the men desperately trying to kill it. Witchers kept themselves behind the fiend at all times, striking it where it hurts the most. Its roar was deafening and succeeded in stunning almost everyone, allowing the monster to deal more damage. The fight was long and after a while they finally took the fiend down. Sweat dripped down Tanja’s forehead and Geralt clutched his ribs with a painful grimace. The fiend got to him once with its antlers, but it wasn’t something the witcher won’t survive.

“Crones’ve sensed us, they know we’re close. Sent the beast for Anna.” Geralt explained to exhausted crowd.

“Those damned witches! When will it end?! Look what they’ve done to her! Are they not satisfied?!” Tamara yelled in frustration. Strenger approached her, but she stopped him.

“Enough! I’m taking her away.”

“She’s my wife. She’ll return home with me. You’re welcome to come with us, if you wish.” Baron said calmly, hoping Tamara would budge, but she pushed him away.

“Don’t touch her! We leave this cursed place now.” Tamara growled. Tanja and Geralt stood aside and watched. Tanja’s hand landed softly on Geralt’s shoulder with a concerned look regarding his ribs, but he only shook his head. She knew he was going to be perfectly fine, though that didn’t stop her from showing concern.

“She’s sick, weakened… Where would you take her in this state? Oxenfurt? It would mean her death!?” Strenger expressed his worry.

“I know how to care for my mother!”

“She’s not a rag doll to be ripped from hand to hand. Let her decide!” Graden butted in. Anna mumbled some nonsense in return.

“She’s not herself, you can’t expect from her to decide on anything right now.” Tanja spoke up.

“A dark spell, it must be. Help her, witchers. I beg you.” Tamara pleaded.

“Not everything is a dark spell, I’m afraid. Wish it were that easy.” Tanja’s response was bitter, almost cold.

“She’s been through a lot and it’s left its mark, as it would on anyone.” Geralt continued.

“So it’s hopeless? You can’t help her? She’s to be like this?” Tamara’s voice trembled as she spoke.

“I know a hermit, a very wise man with a gift for healing. Met him some time past. Lives in the Blue Mountains. I shall take her there.” said the Baron.

“Might be worth a shot.” Geralt approved and Tanja nodded.

“I shall go with you.” Tamara was determined, but Graden disagreed.

“That’s impossible, sadly. You have duties, duties deriving from your commitment to the Church of the Eternal Fire. Once we finish our work in Velen, we return to Oxenfurt.”

“Bet you regret _that_ decision.” Tanja sarcastically commented and Geralt looked at her.

“You said you could save my mother!” Tamara ignored Tanja as she stared in disbelief at the witch hunter.

“And I kept my word. Your father can care for her now.”

Tamara argued Graden’s words, but he didn’t budge. He reminded her with a calm tone that she has a new life now and a responsibility she needs to tend to. She was angry and felt helpless, Tanja could feel it. In a way, she did feel for the girl. But she didn’t approve of her attitude, it was too immature in her opinion. She’s not a child, but a grown woman and yet she acts as if she’s twelve years old. The Baron swore to Tamara he will help Anna and when she’s better, they’ll come back for her to be a family again. The witch hunter and Tamara said their farewells to the witchers and were set on their way back to Oxenfurt, while Strenger and his wife were off to the Blue Mountains. Geralt sat on a nearby rock, still completely drenched from the rain that almost stopped pouring.

“No sign of Crones. I was hoping they’d show their ugly mugs.” Tanja commented to break the silence. They were the only ones left and the swamp was quiet.

“Gonna get them sooner or later, no worries.” Geralt tried to comfort her.

“Yeah, I know. So, Novigrad’s next on the list then.”

“Seems to be.”


	6. Pyres of Novigrad

It stopped raining short of reaching Novigrad. The witchers passed by numerous Redanian guards who eyed them, too close for comfort. Priests stood on every corner, preaching about the Holy Fire and making Tanja's stomach act up. They walked down the streets, beggars pulling their sleeves and asking for a coin. Upon reaching Hierarch's square, they were met by a large gathering. A man dressed in armored uniform was giving a speech while holding a torch in his hands. A woman and a doppler were tied to pyres and soon died in flames as the crowd watched with satisfaction. There was nothing the witchers could've done, only watch the poor souls scream in pain and die. Things were spiraling out of control in Novigrad and Geralt worried for Triss’ safety. The woman was proclaimed a witch and burned on a stake, what would they do to Triss Merigold, a member of The Lodge?

Geralt could see the horror in Tanja’s eyes. She was still surprised by human cruelty and Geralt didn’t know whether he envied her on that or not. He pulled her away from the gruesome sight towards the alley. They had business to tend to, after all. Tanja’s façade quickly fell back into place as she walked next to Geralt, clearing her mind. She knew things were dire and humans are despicable creatures, but even she didn’t know it would lead to this. _I’ve been away for far too long and I should’ve stayed gone_.

Reaching their destination, they stopped in their tracks. Voices were coming from the backyard of the house Triss was supposed to live in. They were bickering and Geralt pushed the door open, startling two men.

“Hey! Sod off, we’re lootin’ here!”

“Where is the sorceress who lived here?” Geralt demanded.

“Most likely hidin’ in some rattrap with the rest of ‘em.” one of them answered.

“Hiding? From who?” Tanja’s inquiry followed.

“Temple Guard’s crackin’ down. All mages’re fair game.”

“They round ‘em up like rats.”

“Know anyone who would know more?” she continued.

“I’d look for ‘er in the Putrid Grove. A hive of scum and freakery, if there ever was one. No decent folk show their hides there.”

“That why you think I should look for my friend there?” Geralt stepped forward, voice slightly threatening. Two men immediately stepped back.

“I-I meant no offense!” the man raised his hands in defense.

“Where is Putrid Grove?” Tanja asked again.

“I wouldn’t know. Rumor has it it’s a place for freaks and oddities.”

“You lot would fit in well there.” the shorter one laughed, but Tanja didn’t find it particularly funny. The man got a clear message his joke didn’t land well as a glowing, sharp blade found itself pressed against his throat.

“Watch your mouth, thief. You might lose a tongue before Temple Guard has a chance to do that.” she threatened in a low, cold tone. The other man’s shoulders shrunk at the sight of a long, rune-covered sword against his partner’s throat and took a step back.

“How do we get there?” Geralt continued asking as if nothing happened.

“Ask a beggar or follow a thief! Th-they gotta pay a tribute to the King of Beggars. Word is they do it in the Grove.” rushed words spilled out of man’s mouth as Tanja’s sword still dangerously stood against his skin.

 “King of Beggars? This city is so fucking weird.” The witcheress couldn’t help but comment and sheath her sword.

“He’s a man everyone in Novigrad respects deeply. Watch yourselves, Menge himself don’t go to the Grove.” other man spoke up before his eyes widened in fear again.

“Someone call for me? Wonder why.” a mocking tone came from behind the witchers.

“It’s Menge…” one of the thieves whispered, hiding behind Geralt and Tanja. Menge motioned them to move and the witchers took a few steps aside.

“Thieving vermin to the confession chamber.” he ordered and the two men pleaded mercy, trying to get away with the fact that it was sorceress’ property, but Menge wouldn’t budge. The guards took them away and the captain of the Temple Guard took a seat on one of the dispatched drawers outside the abandoned house.

“You know a bat can sniff out a moth a mile away?” Menge asked, looking at the two witchers in front of him, “I know your trade. Spotted those yellow eyes amidst the rabble in the square right away. Although, the lady over here doesn’t seem to share that, as her eyes are green.”

Tanja’s eyes narrowed slightly at his words. A man who enjoys burning people on stakes is not someone she wants to be around, especially since Temple Guard are keen on putting down mages. She stood out and was different than the rest of the witchers primarily for the fact she possesses a gift of magic and that was evident by the color of her eyes. Luckily, this man had no idea about witcher ordeals, but she wouldn’t put it past him to actually look into it now that he’s seen someone who doesn’t fit the norm.

“Did you notice how much common folk love flames? The Eternal Fire will consume them all one day, one way or another. And as bats sense moths, so I sense freaks. And start by warning them – Novigrad’s no place for your kind.” Menge continued as he stood up.

“Heard Novigrad was no place for mages and now it’s not for witchers either. Who is it for then?” Geralt’s provocation was more than an obvious sign to Tanja that he’s also very much annoyed by this man.

“Righteous folk professing the one true faith in the Eternal Fire. Nothing I can do to you now, but just know that I know you’re here. One misstep, one error… You’ll make a mistake, it’s inevitable… I’ll be the first to learn of it. And when I do, it’ll be standard procedure. Like for every magic oddity who dares to taint this city’s air.”

“You done threatening?” Tanja asked and Menge’s eyes shot through her. He wanted to illicit fear in them, but it wasn’t working. They faced much worse threats than a man with too much power.

“Be seeing you.” Menge finally concluded and left.

Tanja stared after the man while Geralt took a look at the scattered furniture. Triss ran in fear, which was evident after searching her house. She left most of her belongings behind, taking only what she needed the most. There really was no other choice but to find Putrid Grove if they want to talk to Merigold. Beggars proved to be no good, but a little market thief took them straight to their destination. After managing to get inside, Geralt entered a house in which he found the sorceress and King of Beggars himself. Tanja didn’t wish to go inside the Grove and remained outside the wooden gate, trusting Geralt to do the job perfectly fine on his own.

It wasn’t long before Geralt came outside and notified Tanja that he’s helping Triss with something and to meet him at the inn on Hierarch’s square later. Time passed slowly as she waited for him to return from whatever it is that he was doing. She sat in a corner of the room as the rowdy crowd enjoyed their evening. Tanja was absolutely clueless about the events that went down after she left and the history of Geralt and Triss was unknown to her. As far as she knew, nothing ever even happened. Being too far away from the North made it almost impossible to keep up with the occurrences. She didn’t even personally know Triss Merigold, all Tanja knew about her was what came out of Yennefer’s mouth and same worked for other previous members of the infamous Lodge of Sorceresses. It was pretty clear right from the start that this will require quite a few magic wielders and the thought weighed heavy on Tanja’s shoulders.

All her life she ran from magic as if it’s pure pestilence, wanting nothing to do with it. It was something that was given to her without her requesting it and Tanja resented the fact that she couldn’t get rid of it. The best she could do is simply ignore it as much as possible. Yennefer has always been the one nagging her to practice and study, claiming she is insanely talented, but Tanja was absolutely against the idea. Instead, she focused on her physical and mental training, striving to perfect every single move and remember everything various books could offer. However, she did agree to learn how to control her powers. Tanja wouldn’t allow herself to be a cause of an accident that could hurt innocent people, so reigning in the power inside of her was the best solution. Of course, Yennefer continued to urge her to do more, but it was to no avail. Tanja was just as stubborn as the woman herself.

Tanja was expecting from Yennefer to ask her to use her magic if the need arises. She did practice over the years, but Yennefer will never know of that if Tanja can help it. If she found out, Tanja would never find peace again and that wasn’t an option. She loved the woman like a mother, but honestly couldn’t handle her at times. The innkeeper hesitantly approached her a few times, asking her whether she needed anything, but Tanja always politely refused. She was content in her dimly lit corner with a mug in her hand, patiently waiting for Geralt to stroll through the front door and say it’s time for a move out. Luckily, it didn’t take him as long as she began to think it might.

Geralt walked in with a usual blank expression, but Tanja knew better than that. His stance told her something had happened as he wasn’t all too happy about it. The man spotted her immediately and signed her to follow, deciding against taking a break. Tanja quickly got to her feet and took her place by his side.

“Triss told me about an oneiromancer that can help us with Ciri, her name is Corinne Tilly. Took a job somewhere near here, we gotta find her now.” Geralt quickly summarized.

“Your friend didn’t know anything else?”

“She was busy running from witch hunters.”

Tanja only nodded in response to that. There really wasn’t much else to say anymore, she remembered the state of the sorceress’ house back near the square. After some walking, the witchers came in front of a big house and met a man who turned out to be the owner of the building. He had hired Tilly to investigate the strange occurrences inside the house and find out what’s going on, but she’s been in there for way longer than she should’ve been. Geralt and Tanja went inside and immediately felt the strangeness. Silent giggles filled the stale air, door slammed and opened, books fell off of the dusty shelves. On the first floor they found their oneiromancer struggling in her sleep. Corinne was writhing and screaming, unable to wake up. Tanja had her suspicions, but kept them to herself, figuring Geralt is probably thinking the same thing. Following the clues, they finally found their culprit, a peculiar little creature – a godling named Sarah. Apparently, Sarah thought it was funny to give Corinne nightmares and make her suffer in her sleep. The witchers ordered her to stop with her immature jokes and Tilly finally came to herself.

Poor woman was still in shock when they walked back into the room, though grateful for their interference. Geralt explained who sent them and why, Tilly accepting to help them after clearing her head from the horrid nightmares inflicted by a mischievous godling. She left in a hurry, the witchers following soon after. The godling was sent away and the banker could finally have the house for himself, or better yet, sell it to someone else.

The pair proceeded to The Golden Sturgeon where Corinne rented a room and agreed to meet them. Geralt volunteered for the session and Tanja stood aside in silence, not wishing to disturb them both. Tilly instructed Geralt what he must do and he did his best to hold up to his end. He was supposed to tell certain memories in order for Corinne to get a hang of the situation and the person the witchers were after. Tanja listened intently at his words, her breathing quickening as she realized there are parts she has no recollection of. The event of Geralt and Yennefer dying, Ciri rescuing them… Total mystery for the young red headed woman. Her eyes fell to the floor, completely took by surprise. How much happened while she was away? What else equally as shocking did she miss out on? Would things be any different had she not been so incredibly selfish and stayed by their side? Would Ciri be in the danger she is in now if she hadn’t left eight years ago? Too many questions coiled up inside her mind as Geralt continued to share whatever he remembers with Corinne. She already knew Geralt won’t be so willing to talk about the past with her, but she will find out what happened sooner or later. Someone will spill the beans, whether it’s Geralt, Yennefer or Ciri herself.

Geralt fell asleep and woke up not long after, describing the nightmares he dreamed of. Dandelion was in the center as well as a swallow which symbolized Ciri. Corinne shared with them the information she had on the poet – he inherited a brothel, Rosemary & Thyme. The witchers said their farewells and were on their way to the aforementioned brothel. As they approached the building, a familiar voice could be heard from the inside. They dodged out of the way just in time as the door swung open and a man face planted the floor, others following behind.

“Next time I’ll rip your fuckin’ legs off and shove them up your arse till you’ve five toes for teeth!” a heavy accent yelled after the scrambling pile on the ground. Geralt slightly grinned, opening the door once again.

“Geralt! In the nick of time, as always! Oh… Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Zoltan, with your boot to someone’s ass, as always.” Geralt returned.

“Nice to see you again, Zoltan.” Tanja’s small smile spread across her face.

Just as they started talking, a bunch of raggedy men busted through the back entrance, looking for a fight. Of course, they were quickly put down. After a proper beating, each and every single one of the men got to their feet and ran like there’s no tomorrow, Tanja’s sturdy boot finding it’s painful place in one of their asses.

“I’m pleased. That went well,” Zoltan said as he cleaned the dust off of his clothes, “Now we can greet each other like the gods ordained! Ages, pal!”

“Hey, Zoltan.” Geralt grinned at his friend, shaking his hand.

“Look at you, lass! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. I see you’re takin’ after this guy.” Zoltan turned to Tanja, embracing her in a hug.

“Can’t disagree with that, I’m afraid. You look good, Zoltan.” Tanja returned the smile he gave her and hugged him back.

“Trainin’ plenty lately. What with the war on, no Mahakaman mead to be found, but Redanian lager’s standin’ in just fine,” Zoltan responded as he turned to Geralt, “You, though – you’ve withered a bit. Somethin’ worryin’ you?”

“Got some problems. Rather not burden you.” a heavy sigh left Geralt’s lips.

“Fuck off, Geralt. Need to spill your guts to me, now.” Zoltan’s demand was hard to disobey.

“We’re looking for Ciri. We know she came to Novigrad, might still be here.”

“You mean, she’s come back? I’ll be damned. I wonder if I’d recognize her… How many years has it been now? Six, seven? But, what’d she be doin’ here?

“Most probably hiding, since she is in danger.” Tanja answered.

“We know she came here and contacted Dandelion.”

“We’ve a wee problem then…” a troubled note tinged Zoltan’s voice as he crossed his arms on his chest.

“What do you mean? Where’s Dandelion?” questions escaped Tanja before Geralt could ask them.

“Hah! Like to know that meself! Maybe he could explain what the hell’s goin’ on! I just barely returned, as you saw. Expectin’ to come home to a leg o’ boar and some cold ale,” Zoltan rambled and paced around the messy room, “What do I find instead? A shitestorm! Dandelion gone, the tavern chock full of bums. Haven’t a clue what happened.”

“Does he have any records that he kept? Like journals and such things?” Tanja asked once more.

“Yes, yes he did! There was a planner, he kept it here somewhere.” Zoltan turned to look around the place.

“Huh, Dandelion and planning? That’s rich,” Geralt couldn’t help but scoff at the thought, “Besides, anything he wrote probably had a special system, chaos only he could decipher. Actually, in the past, sometimes not even that.”

“Ah, here it is! Geralt, give ‘im a chance, might not be that bad.” Zoltan approached with a book in his hands.

Turns out, Dandelion kept quite organized when it came to his new responsibilities after inheriting the establishment. There were entries regarding shipments as well as people who he had met with, all dated. Lately, he had been meeting only with women, their names written in his distinguished cursive. The three agreed to divide the list and visit the women in hopes of finding Dandelion’s whereabouts.

“First we had to find Ciri, and now we’re adding Dandelion to the list. I simply can’t wait for more to come.” Tanja muttered under her breath and Geralt only sighed, sharing her annoyance. It was certainly a delay in the plans, but nothing ever goes smoothly anyways.


	7. Broken Flowers

Tanja wasn't very fond of the plan they came up with. Running after Dandelion's mistresses wasn't exactly on her wishlist, but it had to be done. _Doesn't mean I won't complain about it_ , she thought bitterly. They've been in Novigrad for barely 2 days and they've encountered nothing but absolute hostility, which put Tanja in a very sour mood. The rain mercilessly poured on the witchers' shoulders as they trudged through the mud towards the familiar tavern. The feeling of clothes being stuck to her skin made Tanja hate this city even more than she originally did. _Funny how the weather is always shit when I'm around._

Upon entering, they found Zoltan talking to an owl, or better yet, trying to make the owl speak despite the fact it doesn't have that ability like parrots. Geralt shared what they found out as did Zoltan. None of the women from Dandelion's list had an idea of his whereabouts and claimed he acted very strange when they last saw him. One woman stood out from the crowd, the one that wasn't actually on the list.

„It's Priscilla, aye – must be her,“ Zoltan nodded at Geralt's description of the mysterious woman.

“And who is she supposed to be now?” an impatient voice rang by Geralt’s side. Tanja was anxious to get the wet clothes off of her body already and Zoltan was certainly taking his time.

“A trobairitz, like Geralt said. Quite popular of late. Picture Dandelion with a pair o’ tits and you’ve got the general idea.”

“Sounds delightful.”

“So how’d Dandelion handle meeting his female double?” Geralt jumped in to avoid any other possible comments from the woman beside him.

“I think he fell in love.”

Geralt took a moment to compose himself after hearing Zoltan's words. At first he thought he was hallucinating, but it just seemed too real. He felt Tanja's eyes quickly shift at him as she repositioned herself, straightening her back.

„Dandelion, in love? Actually, truly in love?“ Geralt finally managed to spit out in disbelief.

„Oh, yes. The laddie’s head’s on fire. Lassy’s got him whirlin’.”

“You sure it’s his head?”

“Tanja…,” Geralt sighed even though he couldn’t help but think the same, “Fine, guess we gotta talk to her.”

“Priscilla works for a mummer troupe – ‘Renarde and the Foxen’. Whenever they’re in town, she performs nightly at the Kingfisher.”

“Meaning we’ve been sentenced to an evening of poetry?”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Tanja groaned in growing frustration.

Geralt’s confused eyes turned to her again, “I thought you liked poetry?”

“Where did you get that from?”

“Lambert told me.”

Tanja stood silent for a long moment, thinking of a way to tell Geralt how atrociously ridiculous his words just sounded, “…And you believed him?”

“You’re right,” he nodded slightly, realizing Lambert’s played him a fool once again.

“Must ye be like this? This’ll be true poetry! You’ll see.”

“We’re not going before I change,” Tanja said turning on her heel and going for the stairs, “If I spend another minute in this wet clothing, I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”

 

As the night approached, Kingfisher became more and more populated. Zoltan led the two witchers through the crowd of gathered people and found their seats. They were promptly positioned right in front of the stage, having a clear view of it. Scanning the rabble, Tanja noticed it wasn’t a night when commoners gather. Most of the people were dressed in a more appropriate manner and behaved accordingly. She felt out of place and caught a lot of eyes staring back at her. She wished for the night to pass quickly as the ever-present frustration bubbled inside her chest again.

Geralt’s unease was very obvious, at least to Tanja. He leaned forward and examined his hands as if they’re oh-so interesting. It was a common thing he did in situations where he felt uncomfortable and unsure of what to do with himself. Both of them weren’t fans of poetry, so this evening seemed like it’s going to be quite a bother.  
Soon enough the crowd settled down and the room went quiet. A petite, blonde-haired woman walked out on the small stage and slightly bowed to the audience. Grabbing her lute, she sat on the small tool and prepared herself. She had an aura of innocence around her and Tanja thought how this world is just too tainted for someone like her. After adjusting her lute with slow and practiced moves, she crossed her legs and started playing, claiming everyone’s attention.  
Her gentle voice filled the room and the words just flowed out of her. Tanja wasn’t very interested to begin with and neither was Geralt who sat next to her, still playing with his gauntlets. It was that moment when the woman mentioned one particular thing that made both of them jolt in their seats. The song was more than clearly about Geralt and Yennefer, telling of their tough love. Tanja could hear Geralt’s heartbeat racing despite his blank expression. His composure barely changed, but she had senses and knowledge that let her know he was indeed touched.

Geralt shifted uncomfortably, feeling like the entire room knows this is about him and Yen, something that’s very personal and intimate and yet it’s spoken about so openly, even sang as well. The urge to leave the room was strong, but he fought against it. _You’re a grown man, not a teenager._ The lyrics recalled some fond memories he and Yennefer shared together and reminded him of their last meeting in Vizima. Geralt had longed for her and when he got to be in her presence again, he almost didn’t want to leave. She has looked the same for years, but somehow more beautiful every single time he laid his eyes on her. The realization of how badly he awaits their next meeting hit him at that moment and he sighed deeply. Their job had barely started and Geralt knew it would take a long time before he’s reunited with Yennefer again. It was hard to admit that the thought hurt, but it stung like venom and Geralt despised it. He was brought back to the reality by a punch in the arm and his eyes met Zoltan’s. Everyone was enthusiastically applauding the young woman on the stage, even Tanja. The room was slowly settling down when a woman stepped out, pointing at Geralt.

“I know him! Twas him murdered some Temerian boys back in White Orchard!” her accusation rang across the room.

“Silence, woman! We’ve come to hear music,” one of the gathered yelled out.

“A murderer?”

“There’s a war on. People die.”

“Oh, please, argue this out somewhere else.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Tanja muttered under her breath, only for Geralt to hear. He just stood silent as people around him started to argue.

“If I know Geralt, he risked his noggin to save someone else’s arse!” Zoltan was quick to jump and defend his friend.

“Save, you say?! He murdered folk!” the woman accused again.

“Don’t let them provoke you,” Geralt’s quiet advice came and he turned to Tanja, signaling that also applies to her.

“There’s the door, settle this outside!”

A light hand landed on Geralt’s shoulder. Turning around, he met a pair of big eyes looking at him underneath the dense lashes.

“Come with me.”

Geralt followed the young woman without a single word, Tanja and Zoltan following. People around them were quick to start complaining about the incident, but it was soon forgotten.

“Permit to me introduce… err… This is Priscilla, known also as Callonetta. As lovely as she is talented. And this-“

“Is Geralt of Rivia, I know. Dandelion’s told me a great deal about you, and I’ve listened with bated breath. However, I don’t know the lady,” Priscilla quipped, turning to the witcheress.

“Tanja of Cidaris, far from a lady.”

“Pleased to meet you, Tanja. Hope you liked the song, doubt I could think of a more fitting subject for a ballad than a witcher’s love for a sorceress… Or should I say – sorceresses?”

“There’s a good reason I don’t pour my heart out to bards – they always babble, as you just demonstrated,” Geralt’s voice was leveled, but it was hard to not notice that tinge of venom in his words, “But listen, besides giving you the details of my affairs, did Dandelion mention his own plans, where he be going and such?”

Priscilla laughed out loud, very dramatically so, and bid them farewell. Upon passing by Geralt, she whispered, “Not here. Come with me.”

The trio followed Priscilla up the stairs and into one of the rooms. Tanja found this a bit amateurish, but surprisingly didn’t mind. Zoltan shut the door after they all went in and Priscilla leaned against a drawer.

“There a reason for all this sneaking around?” Geralt’s question followed.

“An excellent one. When I last saw Dandelion, he told me he was planning a heist – Sigi Reuven’s vault… And I’ve not seen him since,” Priscilla’s voice was filled with fear and worry as she spoke quietly. Zoltan cursed under his breath and Geralt could physically feel Tanja’s eyes rolling in the back of her head.

“Lemme guess – attempted heist was a failure?”

“Well he’s not driven up in a gilded carriage laden with jewels, so I should think so. I’ve asked after him everywhere, but it seems an army of tongue-stealing cats has overrun the city. I learned only that he raised a ruckus at Whoreson Junior’s lair. Then Whoreson’s men chased him all over town.”

“Never heard of that one.” Tanja voiced her thoughts.

After being given a summary of who Whoreson Junior is, Geralt and Tanja weren’t exactly pleased that this was someone they’re going to have to deal with in a near future. The plot seemed to continuously thicken and things were starting to get dangerously complicated.

“Whoreson Junior and Reuven. Well, this is just going to be lovely.”

“We’ll deal with that tomorrow. Thank you, Priscilla.” Geralt said and turned to leave.

“Please, hurry! Dandelion’s not exactly the toughest guy. And please let me know of anything you find out,” she begged after them and they only nodded in response. _The less she knows, the better_ , Tanja thought.

 

Geralt and Tanja knocked on the bathhouse doors somewhere before noon. No response came. Tanja looked around the area a bit, but was interrupted by Geralt’s kicking at the door.

“Geralt, what the-“

“What’s the fuss? The bathhouse is closed,” a voice came from the other side of the door.

“Need to talk to the owner. I know he’s here.”

“I’m not sure that matters, as he’s terribly busy,” Geralt didn’t find the mocking voice very welcoming.

“Tell him Geralt of Rivia wants to talk to him.”

“I cannot promise Mr. Reuven will have time to see you.”

“Open this fucking door before I knock them down and crush you underneath them.” Tanja growled, patience running thin.

“Very well, very well! Please wait.”

A few minutes passed when the door unlocked and opened. A small man stood at the doorstep.

“Sigi Reuven cordially invites you to join him. I’m Happen.”

Geralt entered the bathhouse, but Tanja was stopped before she even stepped inside.

“I’m afraid you weren’t invited, miss. You’re going to have to wait outside.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s coming with me,” Geralt said, threateningly towering over the small man.

“This is out of my hands, Mr. Reuven specifically said you only. You will have to discuss that further with him. Until then, the miss has to wait outside,” Happen quickly spouted.

Tanja exhaled in an attempt to compose herself and turned on her heel. Geralt grabbed her arm and lightly pulled to catch her attention.

“Don’t go anywhere, don’t do anything. Just stay put until I deal with this,” he said as he kept the eye contact. Tanja’s façade was perfect, but her eyes often betrayed her emotions. She was offended and ready to take Reuven’s life for the disrespect. Given the opportunity, she would most likely do so, which is why Geralt had to warn her before he went inside and left her on her own.

“You keep forgetting I’m neither a child nor Ciri. I can behave and control myself,” she responded with bitterness and backed away from him, proceeding to sit on a nearby bench.

She was right. Geralt had a tendency to forget Tanja is different than Ciri. Ciri likes to disobey and has to constantly be kept in check for her impulsiveness, unlike Tanja who had a temper, but could actually control it. It was stupid of him to put them in the same bin when their behavior is so different in that aspect. Of course, Tanja won’t take this to heart and it will be forgotten, but he felt like an idiot for repeatedly making the same mistake.

After seeing her settle on a wooden bench, Geralt went inside and followed Happen’s instructions. Taking his armor and weapons off, he went into the bathhouse area and prepared himself for the meeting with Reuven.


	8. Get Junior

_“Watch your step. Your left side is constantly open.”_

_“I’m trying.”_

_“Not good enough. Again.”_

_The sun reached its peak and beads of sweat dripped down her forehead. Tanja raised the sword after wiping her brow, ready for the attack. Her heart raced from continuous strenuous activity, but she wasn’t going to cave in or let him know how her muscles screamed for a break. Geralt rushed towards her, steel sword clashing with hers._

_“Stop countering. Dodge instead.”_

_“What’s the point?” Tanja breathed out in huffs._

_“You can’t counter monster’s claws, you gotta dodge aside and hit. Don’t ask questions you know the answers to. Again.”_

_The practice went on for a few more hours and Tanja wanted nothing more but a few minutes of rest. However, she knew well Geralt won’t let her go until he’s satisfied with her performance and she had to do her absolute best._

_“That’s enough for today. Pack your stuff, we’re heading back.” Geralt finally said as he sat down on a nearby rock._

_Feeling relieved, Tanja sat on the grass to catch her breath. Geralt didn’t seem fazed at all and yet she was close to dying. She admired his stamina and skill, working hard every day to achieve the same, but it proved to be very challenging so far. Gulping down some water, she packed their bags and they headed back to Kaer Morhen._

_“We’ll train some more tonight,” Geralt said, his horse walking slowly next to Tanja’s._

_“Is that necessary? We’ve been in the forest practicing all day.”_

_“Do you want to read books on ghouls instead?” he replied, giving her a knowing look._

_“…Good point.”_

_They arrived in the front yard to find Vesemir pacing nervously. As soon as he saw them, his steps quickly approached them, “Is Ciri with you?”_

_“She’s not,” Geralt replied, getting off of his horse._

_“Dammit. I left her in kitchen to do some reading while I work outside and when I came back, the devil was gone.”_

_“I’ll go find her,” Tanja said, turning her horse around and riding out._

_There are two places where Ciri went when a moment of bravery hit her: the old abandoned watchtower and a small hidden pond across the river. Given how late it was, Tanja knew the watchtower was out of the question, it takes at least 2 hours on foot to get up there, so she rode through the forest and stopped short of reaching the pond. Walking quietly, she spotted Ciri lying in the grass near the water’s surface. Using the stealthy approach, Tanja walked up to the unaware girl._

_“Enjoying yourself?” Tanja asked loudly and Ciri jumped from her lying position, eyes wide open._

_“You scared me!” clutching her chest, Ciri breathed out in relief when she saw it was Tanja standing above her._

_“You were not paying attention to your surroundings.”_

_“There are no monsters in the woods.”_

_Tanja shook her head in disapproval despite wearing a smile on her lips, “There are no forktails or drowners, true, but bears and wolves are quite common.”_

_“I’m sure I would’ve heard them. They can’t tiptoe like you.”_

_“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Tanja chuckled as she extended her hand towards Ciri, “Time to go, you got Vesemir really worried.”_

_“No, I want to stay here for a little longer. I’m tired of reading books and cleaning weapons. I really envy you, Geralt doesn’t even let me use a real sword!”_

_“Maybe if you paid more attention during practice, he’d be willing to give you one. But since you like being a smartass…”_

_“Why must you sound like him?” Ciri groaned into her hands and Tanja laughed, sitting next her on the ground._

_“I don’t know, maybe because he’s right? You ought to listen more instead of playing a rebel all the time.”_

_“Easy for you to say, he lets you do everything. You already went hunting while I’m stuck reading about dumb monsters.”_

_“That was twice and Geralt didn’t let me fight, I had to stay aside and watch. And as for ‘letting me do everything’, you know how hard I work every day. He’s not favoring me, if that’s what you think.”_

_Ciri sighed deeply, realizing she sounds like a spoiled child. Tanja was only 2 years older than her and yet she was so mature and grown, unlike Ciri who always disobeys and acts childish. Tanja was her closest friend and she looked up to her, but it felt like Ciri was living in her shadow. Geralt spent days out of the castle in the woods practicing with Tanja while Ciri was being closely watched by Vesemir. Lambert and Geralt often sparred with Tanja and Ciri was stuck with a wooden dummy. It felt unfair, but then again Ciri knew she had no one to blame but herself. Maybe if she had paid more attention, maybe if she had been more disciplined, maybe, maybe, maybe…_ These thoughts change nothing _, she said to herself._

_“Are you alright?” Tanja asked from all of the sudden, jolting Ciri out of her thoughts._

_“Yes, I was just thinking about some stupid things…” she trailed off._

_“Penny for your thoughts?”_

_“Do you think I’m a stupid child?” Ciri blurted out. Tanja was taken by surprise by such a blunt question and her bright green eyes slightly widened. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, trying to think of an answer but what does a person say to such a ridiculous question?_

_“Ciri, do you honestly think I’d suffer your presence if I thought you were a stupid child?”_

_Ciri looked at her, searching for signs of possible lies, but she knew Tanja’s words are genuine, they always are. Anger bubbled inside of her for doubting the girl sitting next to her, even for a second. Tanja has never given her a reason to doubt and she trusted her with her life._

_“I suppose not. I just wanted to hear you say it, don’t know why. Probably because that’s what everyone else thinks.”_

_“What is this nonsense? No one thinks that, Ciri, especially not us. The things Vesemir says sometimes are out of his frustration, you know what the old man is like. He doesn’t mean any of it,” Tanja’s soothing words calmed Ciri and she nodded._

_“Yes, I know. I know it’s stupid, but I just feel like a burden sometimes. That’s why I come here, to clear my mind a little,” she pointed at the pond and noticed the sun was setting. She’s been around the world, but sunsets in Kaer Morhen are always the most beautiful, she noted._

_“I understand how you feel, it’s normal. But I assure you, you’re not a burden to anyone. I don’t think Vesemir would be as worried as he is if he didn’t care a lot,” Tanja pointed out and Ciri smiled._

_“Thank you, Tanja. You always know what to say.”_

_“It’s one of my talents, apparently,” she laughed with Ciri, “Do you wanna head back now? Nights aren’t exactly safe around here.”_

_“Just a few more minutes, please? Stay with me,” Ciri pleaded and there was no way Tanja was going to refuse those puppy eyes she was giving her. She nodded as Ciri leaned on Tanja’s shoulder and they sat in silence for a little longer._

 

The sound of clashing swords broke Tanja’s meditation. She jumped from the bench and darted to the bathhouse to find a massacre going on. She was too invested in reliving that one memory that she completely turned off her senses. Whoreson Junior sent his men to attack Reuven’s bathhouse and Tanja found Geralt along with other three men, dressed in nothing but a towel around their waists, fighting Junior’s thugs. She had no time take in the sight as one of the thugs swung his mace at her and she had to roll out of the way in order to avoid getting her head bashed in. However, his head was the one rolling on the ground a few seconds later. After taking care of the intruders, Tanja approached Geralt and the company, trying her hardest not to crack a smile. Her sword was still drawn and the dwarf raised his mace.

“She’s with me,” Geralt said, stepping in front of Carlo Varese, known as Cleaver. The dwarf commented something, but Geralt decided to ignore it, as did Tanja.

“Terribly sorry for that incident. My security failed. I’ll get to the bottom of who, why and how,” said Sigi Reuven.

Cleaver wasn’t giving up, “They were Whoreson’s scum. That’s the bottom of who and how right there.”

“Don’t start that again. Especially not in front of our guests,” added Francis Bedlam, King of Beggars.

“He pranced in right before they attacked. Coincidence? Why do I doubt it?”

“You have a lot of nerve to say that,” Tanja stepped forward.

Reuven shook his head at Cleaver’s accusation, “Let’s give ‘em a chance to explain.”

“We’re looking for Whoreson Junior.”

“We?” Reuven looked at Tanja.

“Said already she’s with me.”

“A witcheress? Never saw that before. You are…?”

“Tanja of Cidaris.”

“Pleased to meet you, Tanja of Cidaris.”

“What do you want with Whoreson?” Cleaver interrupted Reuven’s introduction with Tanja.

Geralt replied without a second thought, “It’s personal.”

Reuven laughed at Geralt’s words, seeing the unimpressed faces of his accomplices, “Geralt takes his privacy very seriously. Spyin’ on him, havin’ him followed, was a bloody nightmare.”

“Still, he was lots more trusting when he was looking for Merigold,” Bedlam sounded his thoughts.

“Gentlemen, you out of your fucking minds? A chat session?” started Cleaver, “Whoreson’s out to get us, and he’ll succeed, eventually. We’ve got to kill him first. So by all means, you sit here, soak, fart and watch the bubbles rise, while I send my boys to Whoreson’s hidey-holes. They’ll make some noise, flush the bugger out. And you, Geriatric, or whatever your ploughin’ name is – wanna find Whoreson? Find me first.”

With that said, Cleaver left the company in silence, pushing past Geralt and Tanja on his way out. Tanja caught Bedlam shaking his head at the dwarf’s approach.

“Any clue on where we can find Junior then?” she asked. Bedlam turned to Reuven, looking for his opinion.

“It’s worth a try. Geralt’s got a knack for finding people and he’s discreet – a value in itself.”

“Leave you to it, then.”

“I’ll look in on you tomorrow, Francis. Finish our talk,” Reuven said after Bedlam who left the room.

After getting dressed again, Geralt met with Tanja and they went to Reuven’s office. The room wasn’t particularly big, but it felt smaller than it was. Large bookcases filled the space, books and papers scattered around and somehow it still managed to look tidy.

“Right mess that was… Never thought I’d be glad to see the man responsible for my taking frequent baths,” Reuven said as the witchers entered his office.

Geralt didn’t spare a second to fire back a remark, “If you’re any cleaner for it, gotta say it was worth breaking your ankle.”

“It healed poorly – can you believe it? I must soak in hot water at least 6 times a day now… Failing that, it bloody pounds like the bells of Beauclair at dawn,” bitterness coated Sigi’s voice.

“I had my reasons. Your leg’d be fine if you hadn’t gotten in my way.”

“I see. Well, I promise you that if I could go back in time, I’d do things quite differently on Thanedd. For example, I’d have my men kill you instead of just tying you up.”

Tanja felt the heat rising in the room and had to intervene before things got out of hand again, “Is this really the time for your petty squabbles?”

“Listen, Reuven… No, Djikstra – just not in the mood for your code names, passwords and other bullshit,” Geralt stepped forward to Djikstra’s surprise, “We’re here on specific business. If you wanna listen, listen, if not – I’d rather you spared us your wit and threw us out now.”

Realizing he might’ve went a little too far, Djikstra backed up, “Ah, what’s the harm? Talk.”

Geralt revealed his doubts and Djikstra instructed them on Whoreson’s possible hideouts, pointing them to his underground arena, casino and house on Temple Isle, though his house is the least probable location to find him. Geralt looked over his shoulder at Tanja and it was already decided they’ll split up to save time.

“There’s another problem,” Tanja started, “Dandelion’s missing. Know what might’ve happened to him?”

“Same thing that happens to anyone who steps on Junior’s toes. I reckon he’s at the bottom of the Pontar, trussed up with the strings of his own mandolin.”

“Lute.”

“Far as I’m concerned he might as well be rotting down there with a goddamn trombone,” Djikstra didn’t appreciate Geralt’s correction.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a bone to pick with Dandelion, would you?” Geralt asked.

“Course I do.”

“You serious?”

“Dead serious. Dandelion published a sonnet recently. Second stanza – the shit uses paired couplets instead of an inserted rhyme! Surely you understand how deeply offended the poetry lover in me was. The bastard shan’t get away with it!”

Geralt stood silent for a moment, confusion and exhaustion mixing in his eyes, “…I was being serious.”

“As am I when I say I have exactly _no_ time to worry about your gigolo boyfriend. Got my own problems.”

Tanja couldn’t help but snicker behind Geralt and he turned around with a harsh look. He was already too tired of Djikstra’s sarcasm.

“However, you could help me with those problems.”

“I’m afraid we have enough of our problems already,” Tanja quickly backed up into her serious mask.

“If you do help me, well, I might be inclined to ask after Dandelion, establish what happened to him.”

“Maybe we can help, what do you need?” Geralt stepped in, feeling Tanja’s eyes boring into the back of his skull.

Djikstra took them under the bathhouse through one of the baths. Turns out, he has a treasury right underneath and someone managed to steal everything stored there. After investigating the area, the witchers returned to Djikstra’s office to inform him of their findings. Apparently, an impersonator came into the bathhouse and dropped a bomb into the drainage pipe that blew up the vault’s wall. The witchers went to the culprit’s house and found a complete mess, but the bomb parts were there. Investigating further, they came across a secret room.

“The bomb was definitely made here. All the substances are present,” Tanja said examining the table. Geralt shuffled behind her and she heard him pick up a piece of paper.

“Listen to this letter,” he said before he started reading, “ _Ciri… Menge is following me… He has seized the treasure… He has Dandelion… You must flee._ ”

They exchanged looks before both turned towards the floor upon hearing the front door open and footsteps.

“Not good,” Tanja commented and Geralt shoved the letter into his pocket before going ahead of Tanja, both ready to attack. They descended down the stairs to be met with none other than Djikstra and a certain sorceress.

“Didn’t expect to see you here… Certainly not with Triss.”


	9. Count Reuven's Treasure

Geralt wasn’t all that surprised, if he was being honest with himself. It’s a move he’d expect to come from an ex-Redanian spy. They weren’t friends, they weren’t even partners, Djikstra had no reason to trust Geralt or Tanja, especially Geralt since their past it anything but sunshine and rainbows. But he was surprised to see Triss, not realizing how truly desperate her position was.

“I decided we could use someone who knows a bit of magic. The runes on the bomb – I’m absolutely dying to know what they mean.”

“You dying to know too, Triss?” Geralt asked the sorceress standing a few feet away.

She shrugged in response, “No, just here for the coin.”

“Ah, Merigold playing the cynical materialist. I love it,” Djikstra commented, sarcasm apparent as always, “In truth, her ideals brought her here. She needs gold to save her colleagues. When I recover my treasure, I’ll be in a position to help her. Simple as that. Speaking of which, and pardon my Beauclairoise, have you found out who fucking nicked my treasure?”

Tanja was standing somewhere behind Geralt, veiled by the shadows of the abandoned house. In truth, she had a tendency to hang back and observe the situation, having a better perspective rather than being actively involved. The distrust she felt towards Djikstra grew significantly as each moment passed. There was something about him that just repelled her, but she couldn’t quite figure it out yet.

Although knowing the answer to her question, she asked anyway, “We agreed if we learn anything, we’d take it to you. So why are you here in the first place?”

“So we did. But I was concerned about you. Stopped by to see if everything was alright,” Djikstra’s wit was beginning to downright piss off Tanja, and Geralt didn’t seem to be a fan either. The man was virtually unable to speak like a normal person and it was rather tiresome.

“You can just say that you don’t trust us, we’re all adults here,” she quickly fired back in a low tone.

Djikstra didn’t flinch at her words. Instead, he stepped forward to see her better, her eyes piercing right through him, “I trust you as much as you trust me – not at all. Believe me, it’s a healthy relationship.”

“People, really feel privileged to witness your battle of wits,” Triss suddenly interrupted, “but try to remember – unlike you, I put my life at risk every time I venture out into the streets. Did the same just coming here. So I beg you, can we get to the point?”

“Bothered Triss for nothing. No point examining the bomb,” Geralt finally broke his silence, addressing the man standing near him.

“Because?”

“Cause we already know who nabbed your treasure. Commander of the Temple Guard, Caleb Menge.”

“Well, well, Merigold… Your coin stands to come with a side of revenge,” Djikstra turned to Triss to meet her surprised face, expecting anyone’s name to come up except Menge’s, “Geralt, would you be kind enough to tell me what you’ve learned? I’m _terribly_ curious.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?! Yet you two agreed to help me!”

“Doesn’t mean we gotta tell you absolutely everything,” Tanja jumped in again, much to Djikstra’s displeasure.

“I’ll let this insolence fly this time – but only because his honor the margrave might indeed have something to do with the theft. Hmm… Menge’s been spending heaps of coin lately, though to my knowledge he shouldn’t have a copper to his name…”

“So, what now?” Merigold asked after silence followed.

“From what I’ve heard, Menge spends his nights at the docks, witch hunters’ quarters. Maybe pay him a visit, ask where he’s holding my gold for me.”

Tanja scoffed at the words, arms crossed on her chest, “Yes, I’m fairly certain he’ll want to have a chat with us regarding the matter.”

“As am I. Lucky I hired two witchers and a sorceress, some of which who’ve been through so much together, to get this done.”

If she wasn’t paying attention before, Tanja was definitely concentrated now, “ _What?_ ” 

“What’s our past got to do with it?” Triss shot darts at Djikstra, clearly very uncomfortable in her skin.

“A great deal,” he answered almost maliciously, “Lovers will jump into the abyss for one another. Suits my needs perfectly.”

“Hold on a fucking second. Lovers? Am I hearing this well? Geralt?” Tanja stepped forward, grabbing Geralt by the shoulder and turning him around to face her. His expression was always the same, but she felt the tense muscles under her touch and that was enough to tell he was more than displeased about what’s currently going on.

“You heard right, darling. Besides, it greatly increases the chance of you getting out of the hunters’ barracks alive – with my treasure.”

“Can you shut up for a damn second, I’m talking to the man,” she burst, quickly glancing at Djikstra before returning back to Geralt.

“Later, Tanja,” was all he said, voice low and barely audible, trying to bury the conversation that he was far from comfortable discussing in front of so many people.

Triss intervened, turning to Djikstra, “You’re using us.”

“Using you? Never! Merely makin’ the most of your mutual bond,” he laughed in her face, “Well, lovebirds… I really must be going. Good luck!”

Djikstra motioned his men to move and they left, leaving the two witchers and the sorceress alone in the run down house. Nerves were running high and the air felt heavy as they listened to the distancing footsteps. When Tanja was certain all the intruders were out of possible earshot, she finally let go, “What was that?”

“Tanja-“

“I know you like sleeping around, but what about Yennefer?”

“Will you let me speak?”

“Still debating on that.”

“This isn’t the place or time, tell you later.”

“Why not _now_? We have plenty of time, Menge sure as hell isn’t going anywhere,” Tanja wasn’t giving this up. Geralt always sells her the same trick and never owns up to it later. It was known that the man despises sharing details of his personal affairs, but if they were going to work together properly, Tanja needed to know some things, instead of constantly being kept in the dark.

Merigold knew of this as well, so replied instead of him, “Geralt suffered through amnesia, sp I took care of him for the time being and… things happened.”

Tanja didn’t even bother to look at the woman who was standing not too far away behind Geralt, she sighed in frustration as her patience was rapidly running out, “I’m sorry, are you Geralt of Rivia? I wanted _him_ to tell me for a reason.”

“You’re blowing things out of proportion, Tanja.”

“I’m really not, I just don’t like that we had all this time together and you haven’t told me a single thing about anything that’s happened. I’ve been trudging through the dirt with you for weeks now in complete ignorance of what we’re actually doing, so my apologies that I’m feeling a little furious.”

“You’ve been absent for 8 fucking years, Tanja! Things happened while you were travelling around the world, looking how to become a witcher despite everything we’ve told you, despite all the warnings, ” Geralt fired back and Tanja flinched. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Many thoughts coiled in her brain and yet she couldn’t form a single proper sentence to respond. _So, that’s how things are, huh?_

Geralt noticed something behind her look, the bright green of her irises darkening as the silence between them stretched. His words hit something and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for momentarily lashing out. The fact that it was Djikstra who got him pissed off in the first place and that ending up in a fight with Tanja made his anger bubble even more.

“I’ll… We’ll talk about this later. Please,” he pleaded, stepping closer. It wasn’t his intention to hurt her feelings and make her feel attacked in any way or form and he wished he could take his words back, even though he knew he was right.

Tanja remained silent, gaze lowering to Geralt’s medallion. He could visibly see her calming herself down, the fire in her eyes dying out. Not because she was over the matter, but because she knew there was no point in further dramatizing. She straightened her back and pushed past Geralt, stepping in front of Triss.

“Tanja of Cidaris, a witcher,” she said, extending her hand to the woman.

Triss watched her for a second before grasping her hand in a firm handshake, “Triss Merigold, a sorceress.”

“We have work to do. Night is gonna fall soon and this business with Djikstra’s treasure should be done as soon as possible.”

“His gold is the last thing I care about right now,” Geralt interrupted and approached the two women.

“Figured so. This is about Ciri, isn’t it?” Merigold asked with concern.

Tanja curtly summarized the situation, “Menge locked up Dandelion somewhere and we need Dandelion to find Ciri.”

“That changes everything,” Triss averted her gaze towards the floor as she contemplated her next words, “Listen, meet me at midnight by the chapel of the Eternal Fire east of the harbor. We’ll figure out a way to get into the hunters’ barracks together.”

“Alright, see you then. And thanks,” Geralt replied as she put the hood over her head. Triss looked up at him and her eyes lingered for too long, in Tanja’s opinion. The witcheress coughed loudly which broke their eye contact and Triss quickly teleported after that. As soon as she was gone, Tanja slapped Geralt on his forearm and he winced in surprise.

“Didn’t have to do any of that.”

“Yes, I did,” Tanja replied as she stormed past him and he only sighed, running to catch up with her quick steps.

 

Later that night, Tanja and Geralt met up with Triss and devised a plan for infiltrating the hunters’ barracks. It was Triss’ suggestion to bring her in as a prisoner, saying how it will grant them a chance to speak to Menge personally, rather than attacking and letting him escape. Geralt was opposed to the idea, while Tanja agreed with Triss. Seeing he has no choice, Geralt agreed in the end and they brought shackled Merigold to Menge’s doorstep.

Tanja felt immeasurable anger fester inside of her as she walked behind Geralt, witch hunters leading them to Menge’s office to present him with a present. She could feel the disgusting looks of the men surrounding her and couldn’t wait to end their lives, standing their presence only for her companions’ sake, although barely. Climbing up the stairs, they were met with more witch hunters and Menge himself. Triss was taken into another room to be tortured while Tanja and Geralt were invited into Menge’s office for a chat.

Triss’ screams from the room right next to them were downright painful. Menge kept pushing their limits, seeking to find a crack in their façade, but found none. A man so paranoid he even made them touch silver in order to confirm they’re in fact human. _I guess there’s a first time for everything_ , she thought. It took a lot of self-control for Tanja to remain visibly calm and collected as she listened the woman being tortured on the other side of the door. Her stomach protested and her lungs wanted to burst and yet she sat still as a statue next to Geralt. _Just a little more and then you get to kill him._

Their role was to convincingly barter with Menge – Triss Merigold and information on Phillipa Eilhart for Dandelion, and Djikstra’s treasure if they get that far. Geralt did most of the talking as Tanja didn’t trust herself that much in the moment, but Menge wanted to hear her voice as well, testing the waters to see if they’re truly calm or if something’s stirring. However, Menge wasn’t willing to cooperate. After explaining what he intends to do with Dandelion, the man noticed the other room has grown suspiciously quiet. Upon entering, Menge was met with a bunch of dead bodies scattered on the floor and furious Triss Merigold, bruised and bloody, but still very much alive and ready to kill. Without hesitation, Triss’ bloody hand sparked with magic that started to choke Menge and a blade found itself in his throat, ending his life.

Tanja didn’t expect such a violent display out of Merigold. As someone who has done nothing but avoid conflict, seeing her so enraged was a sight to behold. She certainly gained some respect for the woman, although Triss had a long way to go yet in Tanja’s eyes. Geralt stepped in between Merigold and Menge’s corpse, preventing further lash outs.

“Should tend to your wounds,” he said, noting her bloody hand and missing fingernails.

“No need. I’m fine,” she breathed out shakily, “Well… mostly fine. Should heal in time for my wedding.”

“Don’t be dramatic. A few healing spells and you’ll be alright,” Tanja said as she grabbed Triss’ wrist which elicited a wince from the sorceress.

“Healing spells? How would you know?”

A vary look was directed to Triss. Tanja wasn’t fond of confessing her magical abilities, but she was going to find out sooner or later anyways, judging by the way thing are going, “Due to unfortunate events, I’ve been born with magic.”

“I’m sorry, Triss. Should’ve gotten you sooner…”

“Don’t apologize. I knew what I was signing up for.”

“Good for you, should’ve kept that bastard alive for a little longer though,” Tanja said as she examined Menge’s corpse.

Triss’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Geralt explained what went down with Menge while she was being tortured and they tried coming up with different solutions. While they were talking, Tanja searched the body and found a key – Djikstra’s treasure.

“Nothing but dead ends. We’ll need to make do,” Triss sighed as she sat on a nearby stool.

Dangling the key in the air, Tanja got to her feet, “Well, at least someone will be happy.”

“Oh, great. Send Djikstra my regards with it,” bitterness coated Merigold’s voice.

After a few speculations on how to get Dandelion out of the dungeons under Temple Isle, an idea of getting a doppler to play Menge came up. They even knew one, but Dudu was currently in hiding from witch hunters and finding him won’t be an easy task. Geralt thought it would be a good thing to ask Priscilla if she knows anything and Tanja rather reluctantly agreed. She wanted to keep the girl out of this as much as possible, but it appeared such thing will be inevitable. 

Getting out of the hunters’ barracks has proven to be a challenge. Three of them against an entire horde of witch hunters. Tanja was forced to whip out a few spells in order to stay alive and keep Geralt on his feet as they were getting swarmed. Eventually, they managed to catch a break and ran for the back, locking the door behind. They found themselves in a small backyard and had to climb over a stone wall to get back to the harbor. As Tanja and Geralt climbed up a shack to reach the top of the high wall, Triss decided to stay behind and let off some steam by completely burning down the barracks.

“That’s actually quite a satisfying sight,” Tanja commented when they were somewhat farther away from the scene of the crime, observing the black gust of smoke rising in the air. Geralt turned around and quietly nodded. A man stepped out of the shadows, stopping the pair and notifying them of Reuven’s request to meet with him. After groaning and complaining, the witchers followed the messenger into the docks where Djikstra impatiently waited.

“Who do I spy? Why, it’s Geralt of Rivia and Tanja of Cidaris!” 

“Will you stop following us already?” Geralt pointed at the messenger that intercepted them.

“I will, soon as you tell me where my treasure is.”

“It’s in a Koviri bank and here’s the key to the vault. You’re welcome,” Tanja quickly shoved the little key into Djikstra’s hands.

“Well, well… Would’ve earned yourselves a medal if I was in a position to bestow them,” he laughed and Geralt couldn’t contain his annoyance, apparent on his face.

“Now to the remaining business. _You lied to me_.”

“What?”

“You knew from the start who robbed me. But you didn’t deign to share that information with me,” Djikstra’s tone suddenly dropped from his version of light-hearted to threatening and accusatory.

“No, we didn’t. But we did deign to help you find your treasure, so stop moaning,” Geralt shrugged, stepping forward.

“I jest you not, Geralt. You abused my trust.”

“I can live with that.”

“Your trust? What happened to ‘ _I trust as much as you trust me – not at all_ ’?” Tanja further provoked. Djikstra shot her a look and she only shrugged, feigning innocence.

“This time, you’ll live. And now, to settle things. You helped me, witchers, so in spite of everything you’ve earned your reward.”

Giving them a heavy sack of golden coins, Djikstra asked after Dandelion and ended up giving them information on where to find a mysterious spy Menge conversed with through letters. With a final threat, he left and the witchers were set on returning to Rosemary & Thyme for some rest after a long day. 


End file.
